Clue Me In
by tsukikomew
Summary: One accidental murder, one predicted murder, and one that hasn't happened yet. One line is the only clue when 12 people are brought to Mystic Falls on the wishes of the 2nd murder victim. Trust Elena Gilbert.
1. The Prediction

This is going to be a very different story for me but rest assured it will contain all of our favorite elements. Rated M for language, situation, and eventual smut!

Clue Me In: A TVD Mystery

Prologue: Richard

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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I have worked for exactly three families during my lifetime. Each family has their own quirks, their own way of doing things, and their own way of viewing a hired hand. I'm a simple man, a humble man, and certainly a man who understands his place in life. I have followed the direct orders given to me by my employers and I have arranged their lives to fit neatly into routine. I have, however, only experienced one request in my lifetime that has troubled me.

Perhaps the beginning is the best place to start when it comes to these matters. I grew up in Mansfield before apprenticing to be a butler as they say in America. My parents are simple people, a butcher and a housewife. I have three siblings but only one is still alive today. When I was 18 I married a horrid little woman before she...well that's of no interest in these proceedings. In fact I should probably move ahead to my first true job.

The Duke and Duchess were a fine choice as my first employers. They were simple folk who required very little outside of a tightly honed routine. Breakfast at six, followed by tea in the sitting room with light conversation until noon, followed by a small lunch and an afternoon walk. Their routine culminated in an early dinner followed by some needlepoint by the Duchess and some reading by the Duke and then an early bed.

My days were simple, nothing out of the ordinary occurring during my five years there. It was a simple time and a joy to work there. I never wanted for better pay or a better lot in life while I was there. It was the death of the Duke that sent me onto my worst job.

The second job was a horrible experience that could very well be an entire novel on it's own but I shall not bore anyone with those proceedings. Suffice to say I followed him across the Ocean and ended up in dreary New York City. Many of these Americans seem to adore that city but all I see is trouble. Crime runs rampant and the theater is quite laughable. I'm sure it's enjoyable enough but Shakespeare should only be performed on a British stage.

After fifteen years of horrible routine and absolutely horrible benefits, I left his employ and sought something in the country. England had bored me after the fast pace of America but I still wanted something with a lush countryside. I also wouldn't mind children either since it was becoming clear I would have none of my own.

I found that third home entering into the employ of one Giuseppe Salvatore. He was an incredibly wealthy man, one who rivals the wealthiest in England but he seemed to dislike the reminder. Under his employ I quickly realized I was hired in order to aid him and no one else. He was a generous man and I found I was happy for the first time as an adult.

The family was odd, a strained marriage with two incredibly different boys. A few years apart was the same as decades when it came down to it. They were opposites in every way. Young Damon was the hellraiser, the one who snuck girls in and then forgot to sneak them out in the morning. Master Stefan was the quiet one, the bookish one, and the one who was to truly inherit the family fortune.

Giuseppe had made that clear over the years once Damon had gone on a new bender. A beached Yacht and a loss of 100 grand and he was cut out. He left Mystic Falls and no one heard from him until he showed up with his young bride three years later. She was a local girl who had somehow discovered him in Europe. One whirlwind romance later and he brought the girl home thankfully not pregnant.

Guiseppe had taken one look at Katherine Pierce had thrown them out of his house. She was not the sort of girl who belonged in the Salvatore family. A dark cloud descended over the Manor as the marriage between Guiseppe and his wife completely disintegrated as Stefan went off to college. Soon enough we were alone in the old Manor and routine became paramount.

It had been clear while Giuseppe seemed to favor the younger Salvatore, Damon had truly been his favorite. Damon was the one who made him feel young, who made him remember what it was like to be child again. It destroyed Giuseppe to cut Damon out and I saw the life leaving him. He became reclusive never leaving the Manor and disappeared from public life.

The money sat there accruing interest and multiplying making Stefan Salvatore a potentially rich man. There were stories of Stefan's piety and his generosity but Giuseppe began to wonder if he had made the right decision of cutting Damon out of the will. A call was made but he only received a letter in return.

Something had happened; a horrible accident of sorts and Damon wouldn't come home. Giuseppe blamed himself of everything and had a horrible time about it. Weeks went by of him in his room, refusing my attentions and eating barely anything. He didn't speak of the accident but I realized then something had changed within the Salvatore family but I couldn't put my finger on it.

It was three years after the end of his marriage things became odd to say the least. It started out ordinary enough it was only when we began to talk things became strange. After all, how many men predict their own murder?

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"I'll take my coffee on the patio, Richard," he said calmly. He was dressed casually today, a blue button-down shirt and tan slacks. He was a man who often dressed as if he worked in a Fortune 500 company instead of a wealthy, retired gentleman. He held the Wall Street Journal in one hand and the New York Times in the other. He often read while drinking his coffee.

"Of course Sir," I offered as I followed him outdoors. He took his usual seat under the shade of the canopy but he poured two cups instead of one.

"Join me Richard," he said softly. I had become his confidante after a few years of service but he never offered me a chair like an equal. I sat the tray on the table and slid into the patio chair, sitting proudly against the chair indicating I was still on the job. "Relax Richard. I would like to discuss some things with you."

"Of course Sir," I replied. He must have wanted to discuss some changes in his routine and I relished the idea to begin organizing things again. Things had been monotonous over the years and I wished to stretch my legs, as it were.

"Katherine is dead," he began with a sigh. My ears perked at the news. He hadn't cared for her and everyone knew it but no one wished her dead. "They say it was an accident. She was drunk and tumbled off of their seventh floor balcony. Dead on impact."

"Well I'm sorry Sir," I offered lamely. "I know she was still family."

"Not of mine! That girl was trouble and I didn't care if she was John's daughter. She was ruining my boy's life and good riddance!" He said harshly.

"You said 'they say'," I asked.

"Yes. Officially it was ruled an accident," he replied.

"But you think differently?"

"She was murdered Richard," he replied. My eyes darted up to meet his and I knew he believed what he said. It was ludicrous to think that girl would have been murdered.

"Sir?"

"I suspect I should be next," he said quietly. He stood suddenly and went to stand by the railing of the patio. "I'm sure of it. Within the next few weeks I will be dead."

"I'm sorry Sir but that is crazy," I exclaimed. He shook his head sadly. "Sir?"

"When I go I have a job for you to do," he began. I tuned him out as I considered how off-kilter he was. What sort of sane man predicted his own murder? An insane one I suppose. "You should listen Richard. This is important and if it shouldn't happen then it was a sort of funny story for us to laugh about later.

"Of course Sir. What do you need me to do?"

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At this point in his story it is crucial to explain the directions Giuseppe left me before his death. Some are to be revealed now and others will be revealed later. At this point he gave me this set of instructions.

1. I was to make myself scarce for three weeks. Go to England to see my family or something.

2. I was to return October 15th and deal with the body, should it still be there.

3. Inform the ex-wife and his two sons as soon as possible.

4. Send letters to eight individuals naming them as beneficiaries of his will in conjunction with his heirs.

5. Send one letter to one Miss Elena Gilbert which was already written and prepared.

I returned on October 15th and discovered his body on the Parlor floor. His body was cold and it was clear he had passed days beforehand. I called the authorities and began following through with his wishes. Each day passed in silence as I wrote eight letters and arranged the rest of his directions. Only one letter remained sealed and I held the letter for Miss Elena Gilbert in my hands for days as I considered discovering what was so important about her. Why was she the only one to receive a letter in his own hand?

At this time it is thought wise to introduce these people who will soon descend onto the Manor in a matter of days. It is dire for all that is written here to be as clear as possible for posterity sake. After all the killer must be caught and to be clear, the killer is one of the people listed below. I do not know at this point if they have also killed Katherine Pierce but Giuseppe was sure enough.

1. Alexis "Lexi" Salvatore: Age 44 Ex-wife of deceased. She married Giuseppe for his money although he firmly believed she loved him. Her only love became her son Stefan Salvatore. Carries and extreme dislike of Giuseppe's eldest son to his first wife. There has been some question about a dependency on drugs but it was never substantiated.

2. Damon Salvatore: Age 29 Eldest son of deceased. After his disappearance in Europe and subsequent marriage, not much is known about him. He is known as a playboy and somehow maintained his lifestyle although Giuseppe cut him off. Recently a widower it begs the question if he had grown tired of his wife and decided to move on without her.

3. Stefan Salvatore: Age 24 Youngest son of deceased. After Damon's fall from grace Stefan became the heir apparent and found himself suddenly tied heavily to his money. Tends to gamble and rumor has it Giuseppe refused to pay off his last bill. Is it possible he was desperate enough to resort to murder?

4. Alaric "Ric" Saltzman: Age 38 Younger Brother of Damon's mother. In all appearances he's a happily married man but rumors abound over Isobel's many lovers. He never quite cared for Giuseppe's marriage to Lexi and has since attempted to reconcile with his brother-in-law and was met with mixed results.

5. Isobel Saltzman: Age 35 Wife of Alaric. A woman from 'new money' who loves the finer things in life. Known to take a special pleasure in her young servants to the point of getting herself into trouble with certain underage men. Not much is known about her dealings with Giuseppe but he did want her at his funeral.

6. Jenna Sommers: Age 25 Giuseppe's Chess Partner and local real estate agent. A somewhat bookish woman who prefers to lead with her knight. An incredibly attractive woman who always gets what she wants and in this case, the Manor was her target.

7. Bonnie Bennett: Age 27 Local Healer. A woman who practices her beliefs and puts little stock in relationships. Dislikes the wealthy as a rule but liked Giuseppe for his wit. The only person to see him during the three weeks I was gone.

8. Niklaus "Klaus" Trudeau: Age 35 Eldest Son of old Business Partner. Seems to be interested in something in the Manor. Not much is known about him but he's willing to use his body to integrate himself into new situations. It is unknown what he is looking for in the Manor.

9. Elijah "Eli" Trudeau: Age 29 Younger Son of Old Business Partner: The brains behind his brother. Doesn't seem too interested in Klaus' business but finds himself amused by the dynamics in the household.

10. Caroline Forbes: Age 25 Daughter of the late Sheriff. An event planner who has accepted her station in life. Loves finer things but stopped searching for them until her boyfriend Tyler helped her rise up. Unsure what the Sheriff did to deserve Giuseppe's good will but is completely willing to take advantage of the perks.

11. Tyler Lockwood: Age 28 Son of the Mayor and local Richboy. He has no intention of joining the family business or of doing much of anything. Dating Caroline but seems willing to play the field when she's not looking. Rumor was Giuseppe knew something Tyler didn't want to get out.

12. Elena Gilbert: Age 25 ? The only person to get a personalized letter from Giuseppe.

So there you have it. These are the important people who shall soon descend upon the Manor to hear Giuseppe's final wishes. What their stories hold and who killed Giuseppe's is anyone's guess. He had plans and I'm sure everything will be revealed. I am deeply troubled by the meanings behind the preceding events but I can only hope Miss Gilbert will be able to shed some light on the matter.

I will compile a brief account of Katherine Pierce's "accident" but I'm sure others know more than I do. I researched the accounts of the tragedy but Giuseppe was right, something didn't add up.

Katherine Pierce was a creature of habit and a woman who liked her routine. She always dined at a fancy restaurant alone since her husband was seemingly working. She would return home after exactly two glasses of wine and spend the evening getting a massage by a young man who gave a special type of massage.

That night she dined at the diner twelve blocks from home and ordered a salad and a cup of coffee. She seemed nervous about something and worried but she tipped and was polite (another oddity). She returned home an hour before her massage was scheduled and seemed to get drunk off of her husband's scotch (which she abhorred).

Sometime in the next hour, pumping music came radiating throughout the apartment. Countless neighbors filed complaints but the cops were not called. A little before eight, Katherine's body plummeted off the balcony and a nearby neighbor claimed she was alone on the balcony.

The death was ruled an accident but the husband was under suspicion. He was cleared within hours but the alibi was never released. The investigation was closed and she was cremated two days later.

Her story raised many questions and I could understand why Giuseppe thought it was suspicious. By all accounts Katherine loved her routine yet that night she was seemingly spontaneous. She was completely happy in her money and society yet she had reason to take her life in a gruesome fashion. From brief meetings I had thought she would be more likely to turn to pills. Either way it did seem a candidate for a second look.

All I know was the sealed envelope left for me with payment for the next year as well as one piece of paper. I read the line ten times before putting the questions away.

_Trust Elena Gilbert_

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DON'T WORRY! The next chapter will switch to Elena's point of view. I wouldn't dare tell you this story from Richard's perspective but he was the one to set it up. This story is my first mystery and I really want to do this right with clues, twists, intrigue, and of course the occasional sex scene. In the end a killer will definitely be unmasked (so to speak).

And who doesn't want Elena to play detective? Just think of the searches she can do with Damon! I imagine the clothes should come off eventually because he could be hiding evidence on his person!

I'm still working on the review replies for _His Best Girl_ but I became oddly inspired to start this one! Over the weekend those will be completed and a page will be created on the blog for my new story. Check it out during your free time and HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Follow me at: http:/tsukikomew (dot) blogspot (dot) com

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THANKS!


	2. The Letter

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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I'd never worked a murder case before. Frankly I'd never had the inclination to devote my time to murder. I took the easy cases. The divorce cases were the easiest. A few pictures, a little digging and whoever hired me was pleased. All they wanted was their money and that was perfectly okay with me. As long as I received payment for my services, I could care less what they did with the information.

Here I was staring at the case file. Pierce comma Katherine. Cause of death: Accidental/Suicide. It seemed open and shut to be honest. Drunken moments led to accidentally propelling herself off the balcony. Dead on impact. Clean, to the point, and incredibly boring. Did I mention I hate police reports?

The phone rang and I picked it up, as always on the first ring. I rattled off the standard greeting since I was between temps and was met with silence. Did I mention I hate bad phone etiquette?

"Did you get my little gift?" a deep voice asked. I smiled lightly when I realized who I was dealing with today. He was the only one who ever got away with bad etiquette. I couldn't fault him since I maintained he was raised by wolves. He didn't really discount my theory either.

"It definitely is to the point," I replied. I looked over the ME's report which was filled with enough technical terms to fill a dictionary. From what I gathered, her neck had been broken. There was some mention of cuts but she had landed on the windshield of a New York City cab. God knows what was fermenting on that thing.

"Well you know us cops. We detest creativity in our reports," he explained.

"You know Jer, I wonder about this one," I trailed off. No one understood my interest in this case and I preferred it that way. I didn't like people getting into my business and I made sure I kept my anonymity.

"I don't understand why. It's open and shut and New York said it was closed within a few hours. Why dredge up an accidental?" He asked. There it was the question. How I hated curiosity. I should have known calling in a favor would eventually lead to questions.

"Would you let it go?" I asked.

"Elena...you never ask for favors. I worry, you know? Are you working something?" he whispered. I sighed loudly. I couldn't tell him what my fascination was in the case. I didn't want to hear sympathy and false sentiments. I was perfectly fine with things the way they were.

"Forget I asked," he finally said. "Look I wanted to give you the heads up. Donovan was looking for you."

I could feel the tension in the air at that statement. Why couldn't he just take a hint? I heard the front door open and I groaned. Officer Matt Donovan was standing in the doorway with a look of determination gracing his features. I couldn't help but notice the twenty pounds he'd lost and the way his uniform fell over his body, clinging to newly forming muscles. God a nooner might not be so bad...

"Speak of the devil...look I'll call you later Jer. Tell Anna I said hello," I said hurriedly. I couldn't afford to let Jer hear the lust in my voice. No! No! Stop it! Matt and I are over. He caught my eyes and smiled broadly. He knew the reaction he had and he sauntered over to my private office and opened the door. His blond hair fell into his eyes as he looked me over, his tongue flicking out when he saw my low-cut shirt.

"You look amazing Elena. I would say our time apart has been kind to you," he said as he walked over to my chair. I froze under his gaze as his hand reached out to hold my neck. "You look delectable..."

His kisses were wet as he plundered my mouth like I was a yogurt cup. His hands were clammy as they reached forward to grasp my breasts. I pushed at him and he moved back, sitting on the edge of my desk as if waiting for me to jump him. I wiped my mouth with disgust and I saw the surprise register on his face.

"That was unnecessary Matt," I said softly. "You can't do that anymore."

"And why the hell not? We're dating aren't we?" He asked with a flourish.

"No Matty, we're not," I replied. "We broke up six weeks ago and I don't appreciate you coming here."

"Elena, we were taking time apart and re-assessing our relationship. I was giving you the space you wanted," he answered. He stood and ran his fingers through his hair as he stalked over to the windows. I saw the light glint off of the badge on his belt and I remembered those mornings when it laid on his nightstand. It sat there like some men keep their watches on the nightstand. It was a piece of him.

"No Matty. We weren't. We're through," I said with finality. I wouldn't fall back into bed with him again and I wouldn't let him talk me back into a relationship I knew wouldn't go anywhere. He turned to face me with desperation in his eyes.

"Tell me what I did Elena. Tell me how I can fix it," he demanded. "We're perfect for each other."

"There's nothing you can change Matty," I replied. I heard the mail drop through the slot and I walked over to scoop it off the floor. The worst possible thing was a client sliding across the floor on my mail. I glanced at the envelopes as Matty stewed in the back room. The first few envelopes were the usual bills and junk mail but underneath all of that was a cream colored envelope in unfamiliar script.

"What did I do Elena?" Matty stormed forward. He had gotten his second wind unfortunately. I dropped the envelopes onto the receptionist's desk. I really needed a new temp to deal with the pile of crap accumulating on the surface. Maybe I'd shut down for the day...

"We just weren't working Matty. We weren't in love," I answered. I realized we needed to discuss this. He needed to understand what happened and why we couldn't fix this. I could still feel the weight of the cream envelope in my hands and my curiosity was peaked. I glanced at the return address but it was no help. It held an old style coat of arms instead of an address. The vibrant blues mixed with the purest of whites to showcase a black bird carrying a blue ribbon.

"I did everything right," he mumbled. "Everything."

"Matt, that's the problem," I replied. He rambled on for a long time, listing things he had done while I played with the seal of the envelope. Would it be incredibly rude to open it now? Probably. Did I care? Debatable. Would he care? Most definitely. Did I care? No...

"Elena!" He called suddenly, jarring me out of my thoughts. He looked pissed to say the least, the little vein on his forehead throbbing away. It kind of looked like an angry inchworm hunting for a little food. Had it always looked like that?

"Matt you're a cop," I finally offered. I suppose it was stupid to say it since it was obvious what he was. After all the shiny cuffs were hanging from his belt buckle. "You're all about procedure and rules. You aren't fun."

"Excuse me?"

"Matt, I'm not procedure or protocol. I'm not easy. It's not three dates and sex. It's not six months and we discuss marriage. I'm not that type of girl. I'm adventurous and spontaneous!"

"You mean you have commitment issues. You won't let me come over and the moment I start talking about love, you bolt! When are you going to stop being a frigid bitch!" I slammed my palms down on the table, allowing the letter to flutter to the floor. My hands closed over his shoulders and I shoved him towards the door.

"I believe we are done here Officer Donovan. I suggest you don't come back unless you have a warrant or I'm screaming bloody murder," I said as I slammed the door in his face. I flipped the lock and smirked at his death glare. He flipped me off like the ass he was and I could only hope we were through for good. I didn't need the stress.

I flipped the little sign in the window to closed and decided to take an early lunch. After all there was that odd cream-colored envelope and leftover Chinese in the mini-fridge. Too bad I didn't drink when working. I could have used a glass of Chardonnay right about now. I bent over to retrieve the letter and ended up tumbling down in a heap when my boot collided with a fallen pen. Damn slippery devils!

I laid there on the floor and considered Matt's words. _Frigid Bitch_ rattled around my head. It was true I hadn't had a relationship last longer than a few months. I'd never had a man spend the night. Hell, I rarely spent the night. Could he be right? Did I really have commitment issues? I was only 25 and I had to wonder if I should be settling down. Maybe_ I _was different.

Okay so maybe I wasn't exactly typical. I mean how many 25 year old private investigators have their own practice and have shot three people? Okay the first two were self defense. The third...well that one was deserved. Luckily for me the guy was scared shitless and said it was self defense. That'll teach a wife beater.

Okay so maybe my childhood wasn't exactly normal but that didn't seem to matter during my apprenticeship years. I never had client complaints and I was an effective worker. So what did it matter I grew up dirt poor? What did it matter I had no stable relationships to build from since my mother never remarried or dated? I was more interested in being the "Encyclopedia Brown" of the neighborhood. After all, if you have no money, commandeer it from the local kids. Most are stupid enough to pay for you to get dirt on their parents. For that matter, learning to shoot pictures through bedroom windows leads to true learning. I didn't know bodies could bend that way.

Okay so I didn't go to college. I barely graduated high school but I'm smart enough. Why spend another four years learning from books when I could spend those years learning a valuable trade? Also it saved me all those pesky hours spent taking exams. I do spend a lot of time in libraries and digging through digital newspapers though. At least I learned how to do research competently. Only the worst P.I.'s can't stomach research.

Maybe there was something wrong with me. Wasn't Anna telling me just last week how I was missing out on marriage and love? Of course she had been joined with Jer since they were thirteen but still! Maybe I wasn't meant to fall in love. Maybe I was meant to be alone.

I rolled over and glanced at the cream-colored envelope. Work would help me forget all the nagging little real life issues. I ripped at the seal viciously and pulled out three sheets of expensive stationary. This was not "From the Desk Of," stationary. This was the real deal costing hundreds probably. The script was cursive, neat looping words flowing across the page in a style which clearly indicated an older person. From the thin loops, I deduced male. Women tended to make bigger loops and widen their script.

_Elena,_

_I'm sure you don't remember me as I've only had the pleasure of your company twice. Once when you were four and you had a deep love of ice-cream sandwiches. You preferred the ones from the box that cost only a dollar or so while your family dined on the expensive homemade ones. I believe it was the Fourth of July. You were in that blue dress, twirling around while my younger son chased you. My eldest if you recall was too busy watching you, a vision in blue._

_It never should have happened and I should have stopped John from his horrible decisions. It was unfair to you and to your mother to divorce her in such a fashion. I spent years hunting the two of you down and offered to help in any way possible. Your mother was much too proud to allow too much help. She was one of a kind and I'm sorry to hear of her passing. She deserved much more than her life afforded her._

_The second time happened at the beginning of your apprenticeship. I'm not sure if you recall your first true client, an elderly gentleman who needed a background check done on an employee. You were thorough and I applauded your tenacity. I felt dishonest but I wanted to meet you as you were then. I needed to know what kind of woman you grew into after your childhood in the city. _

_A strong woman who made her own way was what I found during that time. You were tenacious and persistent. You went to great lengths to discover Joelle was a fake identity. Of course you may not have realized I already knew that since I'd arranged for it. I had to know how good you were with little training. I had to know if I could trust you. Even then I knew I would be murdered and I wanted you to solve it._

_I didn't know when and I didn't know how but I suspected. It is an odd feeling to know you will be murdered. I can tell you I wasn't frightened. I had suspected for awhile but I did not truly know until my eldest son Damon came through the door with his new bride. Her name was Katherine and I'm sure you have been digging into her accidental death. I'm sure she was murdered as well but I have no proof._

_I spent months learning to accept my faith and in doing so I analyzed each mistake in my life. I remembered my deep love for my children and all the mistakes I had made with them. Damon had been alienated so completely that he looked at me with hatred when I kicked him and Katherine out of our home. Stefan is a wreck with gambling debts and I realized my own mortality. I had made a horrible mistake._

_Onto the proposal, then. If you have received this letter than I have been murdered. My butler Richard has mailed out a letter in his own hand to each person to receive an inheritance. Eleven individual received this letter. You are the only one to receive a letter in my own hand and I hope you find a greater sense of accomplishment from that distinction. After all I did not send my own children such a letter._

_Enclosed you will find a check for $7500. I understand that will not be nearly enough but I believe it will be a start. I ask you to fly to Mystic Falls, Virginia and investigate my murder. Katherine's murder is also significant and I wish you to pursue that in a secondary manner. On October 21st at 11pm sharp, a car will arrive at your business office to escort you to the airport. There you will find a first class ticket to take you to the closest airport. Another car will meet you once you land and escort you to my estate. I'm sorry for the late hour but you must arrive before the reading of the will and you must meet the family in this fashion. They will fight your admittance after then as you are neither local nor family. It is my hope Damon or Stefan may remember you as you were then. I'm sure you understand why they will have difficulty with you as you are now._

_I'm sure you will meet my very unhappy relatives at the reading of the Will. Trust me when I tell you they will not be pleased. In fact, they may view you as a threat but don't worry you are quite welcome. All your needs will be met by my household staff as well as local people of importance. If you successfully find my killer and/or Katherine's then you are entitled to a piece of my legacy._

_I know it is insane of my to ask you to do all of this for a man you hardly know but I am sure you are at least curious. I do hope you will come and answer this dying man's final wish. When the car arrives you will find a list of names as well as their ages and occupations. I suggest you learn the material so you can determine the best course of action._

_Thank you, my dear. I leave you with one more piece of advice._

_Don't trust Richard._

_Giuseppe Salvatore_

I glanced at the bottom of the letter once more. Giuseppe Salvatore...my first real case. Of course that case had been overly complex for an illegal immigrant. I should have known it was rigged. He had been tough and difficult to work for but at the end he had thanked me profusely before handing me a rather large bonus. I had written it off at the time but now I knew it had been a test.

I looked at the calendar on the wall and saw the big "X" over the 20th. Today was the 21st and I only had a few hours to make a decision. To solve or not to solve...to learn or not to learn. To cash the check or not. Questions, questions...and only 10 hours to decide. I stood suddenly and wiped the dust from my jeans before throwing the letter down onto the receptionist's desk.

I went into my office and pulled out the file folder on Katherine Pierce and skimmed down to information on family. There is was, Damon Salvatore (husband, 3 years). There was little information about the husband, not even a picture. Who was Damon Salvatore and why was there no information on him?

I typed the name into a search engine and came up with exactly three results. Seriously only three? Who was this guy? One was the marriage announcement, the second a society article, and the third a passing mention in an article about Katherine's death. Nothing else. Not even a damn Facebook page. No one was that clean. I pulled up a background check site and ran his name, paying the obligatory fee.

Name: Damon Salvatore

Birthdate: Oct 31, 1982

Occupation: Unemployed

Marital Status: Katherine Pierce (3 years)

Phone Number: -

That was it? No phone number, no address, NOTHING! Fuck it all! I slumped into my chair and stared at the screen. No pictures, no details, nothing. He was turning 30 in a few weeks apparently...well Happy Birthday to you rich boy! There wasn't even mention of family. If I recalled correctly, the Salvatore's were real, honest to God rich people. Their money made royalty look cheap. How could Damon not be linked to them?

The phone was in my hand before I realized it. The familiar number was dialed and I sat back to wait. Three rings and a familiar voice identified themselves.

"Detective Gilberte, speaking."

"Jer, what do you know about Damon Salvatore?" I asked in a rush. I was already clearing my calendar and doodling a list of things to pack. My curiosity was clearly peaked and I couldn't resist finding out the answers to all the questions I had.

"Elena? Salvatore?"

"Yes, Damon Salvatore. What do you know about him?"

"I'll run a search for you but honestly I just know his name in conjunction with the Pierce case. I don't think I've heard it before then," he answered quickly. "No, I don't think so. Why?"

"I just received a letter from his father who was...you guessed it, murdered. He wants to hire me to solve it," I explained as I pulled up maps of Mystic Falls. It was a small-town and the Salvatore Manor was located on the outskirts. It was clearly a large estate and I had to wonder how secluded it really was.

"Holy Shit! His murdered father sends you a letter asking you to solve his murder? His wife just died and now his father? What the hell is wrong with the Salvatore's?" Jeremy exclaimed. I nodded even though he couldn't see me and thought about the implications.

"Over money maybe? Lovers...it's sort of a gigantic mystery," I replied. "Can you run the search on him?"

"Sure, I'll call you tomorrow with the info?"

"Call my cell and email me any details you can. I'm leaving for Mystic Falls tonight and I won't be back for awhile. Water my plants?" I asked as I shut down the computer and slid the slim laptop into its case. Pack light was a motto of mine but I'd need some gadgetry. I wondered if the old house even had Wi-Fi.

"You're going down there...TONIGHT?"

"Yep. I'm supposed to be there for the reading of the will and its tomorrow. Apparently a car is coming at 11pm for me and I need to be ready. I have a bunch of errands and prep work so I better get going. Can you get me the information?"

"Sure. Be careful Elena. Two deaths in such a short span don't look good. Would you listen if I asked you not to go?"

"No, but thanks anyway. Tell Anna I'm sorry about dinner. It seems I need to pack," I said as I locked the door to my office and armed the alarm. It was a cheap piece of shit but it seemed to work. The front door was closed and locked before Jeremy finally said goodbye. I knew he'd worry but it seemed like I had to do something.

As I turned the block to head towards the post office to stop my mail, I felt something ripple through me. There was this sense that nothing would be the same after this case. I smiled and I whispered the thing that interested me the most, _Damon__ Salvatore_.

Perhaps I would solve that mystery first.

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Yes I now her inner monologue is choppy. Don't worry it will clean up a bit once we get to her meeting the family. Next chapter she arrives at the reading of the Will and meets the mysterious Damon Salvatore. Feel free to speculate about his BIG SECRET.

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	3. The Melody

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters listed below but I do own the events which transpire below.

Due to recent outbreaks I wish to mention the following. I do not accept translations and/or copying portions of my work. Both without my permission is considered plagiarizing and will be reported. Regardless of credit given by the person copying, I view it as wrong since it was done without my consent. I hope everyone will respect my wishes.

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What have I gotten myself into, I have to ask myself. I'm staring up at the stone facade (check that word, facade) and I have this feeling that I should get back on a plane and go home. There is this horrible feeling deep in my soul and I know something bad will happen. There is no way any of this can go well and maybe it's better if I just go home. I turned around and stared at the imposing gates that were closing behind the limo service. Giuseppe had taken all the stops in my arrival and I was surprised he didn't want me to burst in the doors on a motorcycle. That would have really gotten them in a tizzy.

I turned back to look at the cars in the driveway. Let's see here:

1. Blue Sedan: Isobel and Alaric

2. Green Convertible: Jenna

3. Black Bentley: Lexi

4. Red sports car: Stefan

5. Bicycle: Bonnie

6. Rolls: Tyler and Caroline

7. Limo: Elijah and Klaus

8. Dark Blue Camaro: Damon

9. Grey Sedan: Lawyer

The name escaped my mouth and I felt a ripple move through me. It was something about the name, it seemed. How could a name affect me so completely when I didn't even know what he looked like? I shook my head to get rid of the feelings and leaned over to peer into the interior of the car. There was one blanket, red and cotton. There was a small handyman kit in the backseat, open with one screwdriver missing. I moved to look at the front end of the car and saw a pendant dangling from the rear-view mirror. On closer inspection I found it to be a black bird with a real blue ribbon dangling from its beak. Below, something caught my eye and I heard the gasp leave my lips.

I reached out and touched the picture lying in a stack of papers on the passenger side. It was my face. I lifted the picture from the car and stared at the picture of me in an old style dress. It was from one of those beach stores which allowed old time photos. I let out a small cry when I realized I was looking at her. Katherine Pierce...my own personal doppelganger.

I traced a finger over her face and tried to see the differences I was sure existed. Her hair was curly or perhaps it was done for the picture. Her cheekbones were sharper and her lips seemed fuller. Her breasts were larger but they looked to be fake so some obvious work. She seemed vain and cold. But then I...I was known to be cold so what sort of judge was I?

A sound broke through my thoughts and I whirled around to stare at the nearby trees. It sounded like a tree branch snapping and I reached inside my jacket to feel my holster. I knew it was precaution but I felt safer with it strapped to my body. I dropped the picture back into the car and turned to move closer to the woods, my hand remaining on the small gun on my side. It wasn't my favorite but much more easily concealed.

There was movement and I took off. Through the trees I ran until I emerged into some sort of clearing. I spun around and found nothing. There was nobody nearby and no indication someone had recently been through. Nothing had been trampled and little had been moved in a long time. I heard the soft rumbling of water and I spun to look into the center of the clearing.

It was a beautiful area, a garden with a natural water source. The bubbling water was relaxing and I moved closer to investigate. Lilies grew there in pots surrounded by ivy. A small statue rested in the center and I approached it slowly. Delicate feet rested against the stone pedestal, carefully arranged to imply dancing. The dress flared out as if in motion. The bodice was conservative but highlighted a young woman's torso. Breasts were lovingly carved out of the stone and I nearly reached out to touch them.

It was a calming location, clearly meant for contemplation and serenity. I could hear the birds in the trees and I couldn't help but close my eyes. I tried to remember the last time things felt calm in my life, the last time I felt safe and nothing materialized. There was some distant memory in my mind but I couldn't see where or with whom I was. But it was there, lingering in the background.

My eyes opened and I was confronted with the delicate picture she made in the meadow, a stone Goddess. My eyes lifted to her neck in my quest to see her face. The stone turned nearly alabaster as her delicate neck and arms burst playfully from the dress. Each finger was carved out of stone but on the left hand was silver diamond ring. I slid my fingers to the ring and felt the cement beneath my fingers.

"Sophia," a voice said. I spun around and came face to face with an elderly gentleman. He was stooped a little from a bowed back but his silver eyes were sharp. He looked well enough in his grey suit, not incredibly rich nor poor. He was holding a briefcase and watching me intently. "You must be Miss Gilbert."

"Yes, and you are?" He smiled gently and moved over to stand near the statue. He gazed up at the statue and reached down to kiss the ring gently. His eyes shut for a moment as he appeared to whisper some loving sentiment to her. He straightened and moved to a nearby bench. He faltered as he went to sit and I reached out to steady him.

"Thank you. It's Grayson. I am...was Mr. Salvatore's attorney. We are unable to begin without you."

"Are they expecting me?"

"No. I have kept that secret from all," he said. He turned to look up at the statue. "She held my own heart once but she only had eyes for Giuseppe. You look a little bit like her actually."

I stared up at the remainder of the statue. Her alabaster neck gave way to delicate features. Her eyes were blue glass and I stared up at the care the sculptor had taken with her likeness. Her hair swirled out from her body and I wondered about the woman. Who was she? Why was a shrine hidden here?

"The first Mrs. Salvatore and Damon's mother. She was taken from them when Damon was three. She caught pneumonia and passed within a few days and Giuseppe was never quite the same," he explained. He bowed his head and murmured a prayer. It was beautiful and I found myself wiping away a tear. He loved her still.

"She was loved by many," I stated. He nodded a little and then reached out for aid. I helped him to his feet and he placed one red rose at Sophia's feet. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"I'm sure it has something to do with Mr. Salvatore's murder. He had speculated and I had thought him playful and worried over nothing. It seems I was wrong. If he trusts you then that is enough for me. I shall aid you in any way I can," he said quietly. He smiled and took my hand as he escorted me towards the house.

"He warned me they would react poorly," I said. He nodded a little before chuckling loudly.

"Understatement, my dear. I understand the family has not had the pleasure of your acquaintance. I'm sure Damon will be the most interesting case."

"How is he? His wife died recently and I wonder how he's holding up..." I trailed off.

"Better than most, I suspect. He's more torn up over his father's death than Miss Pierce's," he explained.

"So she never took his name?" I thought it odd since Katherine seemed to care most about appearances. Salvatore was a more influential name than Pierce. It was an interesting choice on her part.

"No. I think she liked her independence. Mr. Salvatore did not approve. Well ready to face the lion's den?" He smiled with a twinkling wink and I smiled. This man could enchant anyone.

"I suppose I should just get it over with..." I said. His hand touched the knob and he ushered me in through the door. The inside of the manor was dark but it was beautiful. The doorways were surrounded by garlands with bunches of flowers dripping from them. I glanced up and saw a basket of wildflowers dangling nearby. It was an oddly feminine gesture although no women lived here.

A soft melody echoed through the entryway and I nearly closed my eyes in pleasure. The pianist's fingers must have been flowing over the keys. I glanced around the entryway and found myself transported to a time forgotten. The decorations and furniture spoke of the 19th century while the flowers spoke of simple pleasures. I reached up and found a layer of dust along the planters. They had not been cleaned in a long time, yet someone had hung flowers throughout the home. On a nearby table a sprig of cinnamon was being burnt.

"The real estate agent..."

"Ms. Sommers?"

"She would like to sell, yes?" He nodded at the question and I smiled. The cinnamon was a nice touch but surely there had been a reception elsewhere. There was no evidence of any type of gathering occurring here recently. Why make it seem like an open house when it so clearly wasn't? Perhaps she was expecting to list shortly. "He was found on the carpet right there?" I pointed.

"Yes. The family had it removed," Grayson replied. I nodded again, taking a mental picture of the premises and logged my first impressions. The piano player shifted to something classical but I didn't recognize the melody. I looked at the table in the walkway and noted two coffee cups were left. They might not know I was coming but someone was expecting me. Grayson slipped from my side and entered the room.

"Now that we are all here, we can get started. Miss Gilbert, if you'd join us in the Parlor?" He said as he walked over to the small desk situated behind the couch. I turned and took my first steps into the room.

It went better than I expected. An older blonde woman dropped her tea cup while a man went ashen. The woman I had identified as the healer looked amused by the situation and she stifled a giggle. A blonde girl, who seemed a bit more conservative than her demeanor spoke of, seemed to be surprised by my appearance. Exactly three people seemed to not know who I was which I thought were the Saltzman's and the real estate agent. Everyone else seemed stunned into silence.

"This is quite impossible! How...how can Katherine be here!" The blonde woman asked. Two men a few years older than me stood near the fireplace. One had a look of amusement to match the healer's expression while the other one licked his lips. I was a piece of meat to him and I knew he would be interesting to say the least.

"This is not Katherine, madam," the butler said from behind her. "This is Miss Elena Gilbert."

"Hello, all," I said. The blonde woman opened and closed her mouth a few times before falling into stunned silence.

"Shall I get your bags Miss Gilbert?"

"I'll get them myself. Thank you though," I replied. I looked at each person in turn, save for the person at the piano. They were the only grieving people who looked as though there was no grief amongst most of them. Everyone seemed stiff as though appearances were all that mattered. I couldn't help but wonder about their true feelings.

"I wouldn't mind being married to you," a voice said. I spun to see the piano sitting amongst the windows. I stepped closer and immediately realized who was sitting at the piano bench. I also realized no picture could do this man justice. I felt the gasp leave me and I watched as his lips curled into a smirk. He licked his bottom lip and I immediately had a vision of him rolling me into a four-poster bed, head thrown back in pleasure. Tumbling, tugging, pulling, and arching would come next while his piercing blue eyes held me in a lock.

His hands were artistic and I knew musician hands would be an asset. His fingers were long and lithe and I knew he would be a masterful lover. His hands would be finely tuned to play anything and I felt my body was too willing to find out just how masterful he could be. His eyes were playful as he met mine and I knew he was undressing me with his eyes. Small changes in the ice blue depths signaled his instant attraction.

He was beautiful. His features could be carved from marble and I forgot where I was as I gazed at him. His dark hair fell around his face in a messy array that looked planned while strands dusted over his cheeks. His blue eyes could have held any secret and a woman would have fallen into his arms, not caring if he had taken part in some horrible crime. His nose was chiseled in perfection and his lips were full, yet curved in a sexy smirk. He did some sort of movement with his eyes and I clenched my thighs together.

He reached out suddenly and took my hand and I gasped as our fingers slid together. He leaned forward and kissed my hand gently, his tongue darting out playfully. As his lips caressed my skin, his eyes held mine in an unshakeable grip. His fingers caressed my palm with soft movements as if to promise later delights.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Elena Gilbert. Now, you must explain to me why you look so much like Katherine," he said. His voice sent shivers down my spine and I was captivated by the rough quality in his voice. His voice whispered seduction as his fingers tickled the palm of my hand.

I pulled it back suddenly but his smirk stayed in place. I removed myself from him and spun to look at the room. Many of the women had a knowing look while the men were too busy watching the exchange with amusement. The blonde woman was grimacing but she glanced to the man I was sure was Stefan. Ah...the mother. She looked well for 44.

"She's Katherine's twin," Stefan said quietly. "You are the older twin, right?"

"Yes. Three minutes older," I replied.

"I was so sure she had a sister but she denied it. She kept saying we were remembering her doubly so. I only...one time. I was four maybe...five?"

"Four," I answered. "The last time I was in Mystic Falls, I was four."

"Katherine had a sister!" The blonde woman screeched. Stefan turned and slid closer to comfort her. Damon moved closer and I spun, losing my balance. He caught me and I slid into his arms, effortlessly.

"Falling for me already," he whispered.

"Shouldn't you be mourning your wife?" I asked as I pulled myself from his embrace.

"Katherine didn't wish to be mourned and it would be a disservice to dishonor her wishes," he replied simply. "Grayson, the will then."

"Of...of course Damon," he stammered. I narrowed my eyes when I noticed the amusement in his eyes as he watched my exchange with Damon. He reached into his briefcase and removed a packet of papers. He smoothed them out on the dark surface and reached for a pair of glasses hidden in his breast pocket.

"_I, Giuseppe Salvatore, declare this to be my Will, and I revoke any and all wills and codicils I previously made..." _Grayson began. We all tuned out the legal jargon as everyone waited to receive their share. "I will now read the personal letter attached in Mr. Salvatore's hand. He is quite specific in his bequests.

_Good Afternoon my friends and family,_

_I am sure some of you are quite delighted to hear of my passing, especially the one who chose to murder me. I am not bitter as I had expected it for some time. I can only wish I had been present for Miss Gilbert's arrival. I imagine she's caused quite a show and rightly she should. I am only tormented by the idea of not gathering those important to me sooner. A lot of mistakes have been made and it is time to rectify them. This is why my new will was drafted within the past few weeks. _

_For the sake of argument I will share the previous will. Originally Stefan was to be left everything, save 100,000 dollars to be given to Damon. His mother left him some artwork and a small sum to be granted to him on his thirtieth birthday but I wish to bestow it sooner. Regardless of my previous feelings I have decided to give something to each of you sitting and/or standing in this room._

_To Miss Caroline Forbes, I leave you my art supplies and 50,000 dollars to help you with your endeavors. I trust you to use them wisely. Out of interest for yourself, you may view my own private art collection as soon as you wish. I know an art student will love the opportunity._

_To Mr. Tyler Lockwood, I leave you my sailboat. May the sails carry you far from nearby shores and save you from a life you did not wish to lead._

_To Miss Jenna Sommers, I leave you the downtown condo in order to make a living and ask you to remember to not take things that do not belong to you._

_To Mr. Elijah Trudeau, I leave you my first edition "The Great Gatsby" and I caution you to not be quite as foolish. To love is to trust and you will surely find your trust has been misplaced._

_To Mrs. Isobel Saltzman, I leave you one book of history to be provided by Grayson. As you would normally receive all, I warn you to care for things existing outside of history and to cherish what you already have._

_To Mr. Alaric Saltzman, I leave you 250,000 dollars to be spent as you see fit. I also give you the Beauty you so desired. Grayson shall gladly provide the keys. I am sorry to have dealt with our fallout so poorly but you look so much like Sophia and it pained me to be near you. I only wished you had known your sister better and we had been closer._

_To Miss Bonnie Bennett, I leave you 75,000 dollars to thank you for all of your help and comfort. I also leave 100,000 dollars to be given to the Children's charity in your name. I ask you to be helpful as you see fit but to remember to not always give all information so freely._

_To Mr. Niklaus Trudeau, I leave you the key to my safety deposit box. It may not be want you want but you would do well to learn you can't always get what you want._

_To Miss Elena Gilbert, I leave you the keys to the castle. Until you have discovered what you should, you will have all the power to come and go as you please. After the job is completed, you are welcome to take one thing from the Manor as it is now, regardless of value. I trust you will take the most important._

_To my ex-wife Lexi, I leave you the city home. I trust that will be sufficient._

_To my son Stefan, I leave you nothing save the complete payment of your gambling debts. You have a fresh slate and I suggest you take advantage._

_To my friends, Grayson and Richard, I leave you each 50,000 dollars to thank you for your generosity. Grayson will provide you, my dear friend, with a letter of recommendation. I hope your next employ will be fulfilling._

_And finally to my son Damon, I leave you my estate save the items listed above. As my direct heir, you inherit all of my holdings, monetary and sentimental. I ask you care for them. I also leave you with a word of advice, find something that makes you happy and don't you dare let go._

_I have made my wishes known in sound mind and body and I hope you will all find yourselves pleased. If you don't then consider it my final laugh._

_Goodbye,_

_Giuseppe Salvatore_

Once the first one was read, I turned to watch the reaction of each person in the room. Caroline, Bonnie, Tyler, Grayson, Richard and Damon seemed happy. Damon seemed surprised but he recovered quickly. The remaining people seemed angry. Lexi threw something but I was too busy watching Niklaus's face to notice what it was. Stefan dropped his head and started mumbling soft words.

"Well isn't that like him, always having the last laugh?" the man I guessed was Elijah said. I couldn't help but smile at his tone. Giuseppe seemed to be having the last laugh and few seemed amused.

"I think I should be going," Bonnie began. "My shop can't stay closed for too long or business suffers."

"Miss Bennett?" Grayson called. Bonnie whirled around to meet his gaze, gypsy skirts swirling around her. "There is a condition for the will."

"Oh?" She replied softly.

"Yes, Mr. Salvatore has made it clear nothing will be disbursed until Miss Gilbert has sufficiently completed her job. Until that time the house will remain open for those who need a place to stay and everything will be provided. I bid you all a good day." He stood suddenly and left with a bit of a flare. I applauded his exit and turned to find eleven pairs of eyes trained on me. I had few friends in this room.

"Let them rip you and then make a dramatic exit," a husky voice murmured. I caught Damon's eyes as he slipped towards the entryway to see Grayson out. I couldn't help but watch as he walked away, his pants dipping on his hips daringly. He would definitely be an interesting roommate.

"So…does anyone wish to confess?"

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And so they've met. I'm already envisioning lots of fun moments between them throughout the mystery. I seem to notice Damon's birthday is quickly approaching. What should he get?

Drop me a review and let me know! I am working on review replies as I post this so remember, I always respond.

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	4. The Encounter

I could make loads of excuses but they probably wouldn't be true. Writer's block sucks.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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It was peaceful here. I lay back against the soft grass and closed my eyes and let my mind wander. It hadn't been an easy morning and I desperately needed time to think about the morning events. I had sort of thrown myself to the wolves and it was no wonder I was exhausted. The way Lexi and Stefan came at me, joined with Isobel to make me feel incredibly unwelcome.

I recalled their barbs and their antics to assure me I was not needed and how I had ruined everything. It was my fault Stefan had been cut out of the will and now left virtually penniless. How dare I, the unwanted daughter of John Gilbert, come into town and ruin everything? Maybe I should have just stayed gone.

Threats of contesting the will were bandied about but I bit my tongue. There was no point in getting involved in petty family squabbles while I could use the time to learn. That was part of my training, after all, and I needed to figure out just who I was dealing with in this case. It had been the best time to learn about each member who remained.

Bonnie, Alaric, Elijah, Klaus, Damon, Jenna, and Tyler had left after the reading of the will. Each had said they needed to think about what was said and they would make themselves available to talk to me. They seemed agreeable for the most part but I knew most of it was an act. People tended to say that initially but once questions were asked, they became indignant and uncooperative. It was the problem with my job but getting past them was one of the best parts.

I was able to form some first impressions for the other members in the room and those would become key when I fully began investigating the case. Richard made himself scarce during the confrontation and I wondered where he was slinking off to. I didn't quite understand why I wasn't supposed to trust him but I definitely would figure it out.

I listened to the sounds of nature and sighed quietly. Usually it was very loud where I was. I didn't work in New York but I spent enough time in the city asking questions and taking names. There wasn't as much fresh air as I would have liked and I tended to feel claustrophobic in the city. It was nice to be able to just smell trees and grass. It was nice to be able to hear real birds that weren't pigeons.

I folded my hands over my stomach and just let myself be. I could just lie there and relax and think. I found it hard to think in my office and even in my small studio apartment. It was something about the walls closing in and the air being sucked out of the room. I liked open spaces, places where the air moved through freely and the walls were wide open. I loved gardens and rushing water and it seemed Salvatore Manor had all those things. I could at least enjoy my time here while solving murders.

Speaking of murders, Stefan seemed upset but I wouldn't say he was angry. He was the one I thought would be outraged but he seemed relatively calm and collected. He was distraught understandably but he kept stopping to mutter to himself. He ran his fingers through his hair as if it was a calming motion he was used to. He stormed off after a few minutes and I was left to face down two women.

I couldn't understand Isobel's motives. She had not lost anything nor had she gained. Why was my presence so horrible? She seemed genuinely upset that I had been asked to Mystic Falls even though I had ties here. I could have come at any time to visit my father even though I didn't have the faintest desire to do so. It seemed odd that a woman with no direct ties to either Stefan or Lexi should act on their behalves so vehemently.

Lexi, I could understand her feelings. I had been brought in to investigate her ex-husband's murder directly after her son lost the estate he had been counting on for survival. On top of all of her own issues with her ex-husband and his decisions concerning the will, Damon seemed to find my presence amusing.

I had been made aware of her relationship with her stepson through Giuseppe's information and I was not surprised by her reaction. Stefan was her whole world and he had been slighted by his father yet the prodigal son was welcomed. I knew it was only a matter of time before the family entreated him to intervene on their behalves. How he would handle the requests was something I hoped to witness.

I had escaped amidst the arguing, thankfully, and had looked for a place to gather my thoughts. Outdoors seemed the best choice. The grounds were extensive and bigger than almost any place I had been in my entire life. Acres upon acres of land surrounded me and I was able to escape the accusations, the questions, and most importantly, the noise. I didn't like crowds or noise and I didn't like feeling closed-in.

I listened to the sounds of the land around me. Salvatore Land for the most part but it would take a while before the will was settled especially with the accusation of murder. It would be a long time before Damon could fully inherit. I listened as I heard the rustle of a dress. My mind catalogued those in the house and came to one name.

"You can sit down if you'd like. I can hear your shoes and your dress," I said firmly as I heard the squeak of some older shoe. I pegged the person to be a woman but sometimes I was mistaken. It only happened a few times but one gun to my head was enough to get me to take my surroundings more seriously.

"You looked content and I didn't want to intrude," she said as she sat down beside me. I peeked up at her and noted Caroline Forbes' gentle features. She was looking down the lawn at the few birds who had found the little pond. They were splashing and squawking away and she giggled in response.

"So what can I do for you Miss Forbes?" I asked.

"First you can call me Caroline," she said with a smile. "Secondly I was just looking for someone to talk to. I don't have many friends in Mystic Falls and you're about my age right?"

"Yes. Aren't you dating the heir to the Lockwood fortune?" I asked as I slid to a sitting position. She brushed some of her hair behind her ear and sighed. It was one of those sighs that said things weren't all good in Camp Forwood. She sighed again and I sighed in response.

"Yeah but he's more interested in learning trade secrets from Klaus Trudeau and I'm not sure I'm okay with that," she said quietly. "Klaus is super charming but he's not really a good role model, you know?"

"I don't really but I can imagine. I knew men who commanded respect from their workers, could charm the pants off of anyone, and could kill someone without blinking. Is that Klaus?"

"Pretty much. He's turning Tyler into someone else and I don't really like it," she began. "But I'd much rather discuss us."

"Um...what about us?" I asked. She turned to me with a huge smile and held out a small brochure. I reached out and closed my fingers over the printer paper.

_Visit the Mystic Falls Art Gallery. Celebrating Mystic Falls Artists for 75 years._

"I haven't been since I was a teenager and I don't want to go alone. Want to go with me?" She asked. I knew I needed to become involved in their lives but art galleries weren't really my cup of tea. They tended to display boring landscapes or portraits of people I could care less about.

"It's not really my thing," I replied simply. Caroline reached up and pulled the clip from her hair, shaking her blond hair out until it swirled around her face. She plucked at her skirt suddenly, rolling it up and unbuttoning a few buttons. She was a very beautiful woman and clearly she wasn't as conservative as she looked a few minutes before.

"It's not really mine either," she began. I began to ask a question but she stopped me quickly. "Yeah I know, right? I'm an artist and art museums aren't really my thing. I love to paint but I don't really care for displays. Art should be enjoyed, not locked up and held captive by people."

"Not a fan of zoos are you?" I asked. She giggled at my question and I couldn't help the smile that crept up.

"Not really. I don't like things being locked up and hidden away especially when you have to pay to use them," she said. "So will you go?"

"I guess. I kind of need to iron out some plans but..."

"It'll get you away from the Bitches right? I wouldn't worry about them. Isobel's upset because Ric should have gotten more and Lexi's upset because Giuseppe got the last laugh," Caroline explained. "I am surprised about Damon though. I thought Giuseppe and he weren't even speaking."

"I don't think they were. I think it was a dying realization or something. He loved Damon but he was unsure how to handle it so he did the best he could. I wonder how he feels about it," I said softly.

"I'm sure he's ecstatic. The Salvatore's are worth billions and now Damon Salvatore is the one with cash to burn. I wonder what he'll spend it on..."Caroline trailed off. It was an interesting question. I remembered being asked what I would do if I won the lottery. I had replied, 'you have to play to win'. Perhaps I was too serious about it but I didn't see the point in blowing the money on something with such horrible odds.

"Maybe..." I trailed off.

"Although I bet he'd spend it on you if you asked," she said. I turned to look at her strangely and she laughed loudly.

"Oh come on! He looked at you like a starving man looks at a buffet. I swear he would have taken you right there if you'd have just given him permission," Caroline explained. "I've heard the sex is amazing with him."

"I don't really need it," I said.

"Trust me, with what I've heard you need Damon Salvatore sex. Everyone needs Damon Salvatore sex."

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It was an old house. Okay it was more like a mansion but it was still just an old house. Some old woman glared at me as we entered the place and I nearly stuck my tongue out at her. She huffed disgustedly when she saw my dirty shoes and my grass-stained pants. I shrugged as Caroline laughed. She handed the woman the obligatory entrance fee and then scurried off to talk to some old friend of hers.

"Don't touch anything!" the woman screeched after me as I climbed the staircase to see the top level. It boasted local artists and I hoped there would be some old portraits or landscapes. It had been years since I'd been in Mystic Falls and for the most part I didn't remember much.

"Bitch," I whispered as I stepped onto the second floor. Hopefully she wouldn't follow me around. I hated when people hovered. I stared at the nearby portrait of one of the founding families and noted the Forbes last name. It seemed Caroline's family went back that far. I wondered who else had remained this long other than the Gilberts, Salvatore's, and Forbes.

Each portrait was captioned and each landscape was properly hung. They were boring and I was slightly disappointed. My appreciation of art was low but if it was interesting to look at then it was worth something in my eyes. Each painting was of a person who looked uncomfortable or houses that seemed to all look the same.

I found Caroline's art at the end of the hallway. It wasn't large but it was a canvass displaying a little girl holding a teddy bear. The dress was as yellow as the girl's hair. I couldn't help but wonder if it was a self-portrait. The painting was called, "Freedom".

As I moved through the rooms, I found myself yawning from boredom. Couldn't Caroline come back now so we could move along? So far I hadn't learned much of anything from her since she was spending so much time out of my company. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something peeking out from a nearby closet.

I opened the door and tilted my head in confusion. Why was this painting hiding in the closet? I tugged it out and propped it against the door. As I did so, the title card slid to the floor. I lifted it and gasped at the name. Damon Salvatore was the artist! Was there anything artistic he couldn't do?

'Love' was the name of the painting and I stared at it intently. It was just blue. Everything on the canvass was blue and I tried to make sense of it. Blue wasn't really a romantic color. Caroline had wandered off pretty quickly and I was left to wander the old house.

"I painted it for Katherine," a masculine voice said. I turned to find myself firmly pressed against Damon. His cologne was a musky cinnamon scent and I nearly burrowed my face against him. His hands slid to my hips as I looked up at him. His lips seemed fascinating suddenly.

"Katherine?" I stuttered. He smiled, his lips curling into a smirk as he reached up to tilt my chin towards his.

"Blue always represented my love of Katherine. Each person has a color and her's was always blue," he said as he leaned closer. My eyes fluttered shut as he moved closer. When nothing happened my eyes fluttered open in surprise.

"You are a fiery pink," he whispered. I was lost in the moment as he cupped my cheek. "A vibrant, beautiful, siren."

My lips parted and I found myself ignoring that little voice in my mind. This was my sister's husband. This was a potential killer. I'd only know him for about six hours. It all seemed irrelevant as I slid against him, my hands pressed tightly to his chest.

"Damon..." I whispered. "We can't."

"Take a chance," he replied as I felt his lips nearly brushing mine. I couldn't look away as his hand dipped down to my lower back and he moved me towards the closet door.

"I don't know you," I whispered.

"Maybe not but isn't it fun this way," he replied softly. "You are inspiring." His breath was warm and smelled like chocolate. His lips parted and I sighed in a way I didn't recognize. Oh wait, I was sexually attracted to him. That's what that was.

"Elena did you see the painting of a ball of wax? What's up with that?" Caroline said as she turned the corner. I leapt out of Damon's arms just as Caroline noticed what was going on. "Oh sorry!"

"More later my fiery muse," he said with a smirk. I stood there sputtering as Caroline came up and grabbed my arm.

"Everything right now! Was it good? Does he use his tongue? Is he really as large as everyone says?" Caroline asked in a torrent.

"I...I..." I stuttered. Somehow my mind was fuzzled and all I could think about was the way his fingers felt on his skin.

"Oh it was! God you have to tell me about the sex! Tyler's been kind of tired lately and I need to live vicariously," she explained. I shook my head to clear my head. He was much too familiar and I didn't like it.

Who the hell was I trying to kid? I would have fallen into bed with him within five minutes. He smoldered and suddenly I wanted to burn. No one had made my blood sing in my veins like he had with a few moments of touching. How the hell was I supposed to solve a murder when suspect #1 could turn me into goo?

"In high school, he would crook a finger and the girl of his choosing would fall into his arms. He had them in the broom closets and on teacher's desks. He got caught so many times but every girl said it was worth it," Caroline said.

"Worth it?" I echoed.

"Yeah apparently he has amazing stamina and can make a girl pass out with very little effort," Caroline explained.

"Well I don't need it," I said firmly or at least what I hoped was firmly.

"Trust me, you need it," she said. "You are so tense and he's the perfect cure."

"What about Katherine?" I asked quietly.

"Oh yeah. He was always kind of interested in her but she wouldn't give him the time of day. This was an ode to her beauty or something stupid like that. Either way she married him and no one ever understood why. She didn't even seem to like him," Caroline trailed off. She had been pulling me down the stairs and out of the house as she talked as if I would discover something in the old house.

I glanced over my shoulder at the place and caught a glimpse of Damon watching me from an upstairs room. He nodded when he saw me and waved with a smirk. He knew he affected me and I didn't like that one bit.

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The boarding house was silent as I entered the parlor. There was no evidence of anyone still hanging about and I sighed in pleasure. It was 10 pm and I was not in the mood for any confrontations. I moved towards what I guessed was the dining room and found my way into the kitchen. I flipped on the light and jumped in surprise.

"Sorry Miss Gilbert," Richard said softly. "I was waiting for your return." He offered me a cup of tea and I stared at it before sipping thoughtfully. It was perfect and I nearly moaned at the taste of honey.

"I'm sorry, what?" I said when I noticed he was staring.

"I said I would like to direct you to your room. Mr. Salvatore left explicit instructions for you to be given his late wife's chambers. I wanted to make sure you were settled before retiring," he explained.

"His late wife's?" Was that morbid?

"Yes, Miss Gilbert. Sophia's rooms have always been kept separate and Mr. Salvatore was adamant that you should take over her rooms. I hope you find them to your liking," he explained.

He moved towards the doorway and I understood I was supposed to follow him. I shuffled through my lists of what I knew and remembered the cryptic warning from the letter. Perhaps I shouldn't have drunk the tea.

He led me up the stairs and down the hallway towards the back of the manor. As we passed each door he told me the occupants or uses for the room. I couldn't help but notice when he gestured to my room that it was next to Damon's. It also happened to be the only other room in this corridor so we were virtually secluded from the rest of the house.

He bowed slightly as he opened the door and I expressed a soft 'thank you' as I entered the room. I flicked the light switch and they came on effortlessly. The only words that entered my mind at that moment were,

"Holy Shit!" This was a palace. The bed was on a freaking platform! The window was floor to ceiling overlooking the gardens. This place was bigger than my entire apartment and it was all mine? I noticed my bags on the floor and I turned to throw my jacket on the floor.

I dove at the bed and sunk into the luxurious mattress, sighing in contentment at the feeling of soft, silky sheets. I shimmied down and unbuttoned my pants. I kicked my shoes, socks, and pants off before ripping my shirt off. The feeling of this bed against my body was like heaven and I nearly purred in contentment.

My mind immediately turned to the sexy man living in the room next door. As I remembered his piercing blue eyes and the feel of his fingers on my skin, I tried desperately to remember he could be dangerous. Apparently my body didn't care. My fingers tingled as they inched down my body to unclasp my bra and it fell to the bed. Maybe I needed to remove some...tension?

I rolled over to get comfortable and saw something laying on the end table. I reached out and picked up the envelope. I noticed my name scrawled across the front and I turned it over to open. Perhaps Giuseppe had left it for me.

I let out a yell when the picture tumbled out onto the bed. A picture of my sister lying in a puddle of blood was there. Across it was written,

"_You wouldn't want to end up like her, would you?"_

Just as I reached out to turn the picture over, Damon flew into my room. Before he could say a word, his eyes dropped to my bare breasts and he smirked.

"You know, you could have just invited me over," he said smugly.

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So I'm going to try and update my two stories alternatively. So next will be TBL.

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I'm still working on review replies as well as the next chapter of TBL. I love feedback though so please leave me some.

Thanks!


	5. The Threat

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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At a later time I would remember this night with a level of fondness I almost never experienced. I would remember the way his blue eyes smoldered when they darted down to my naked breasts. I would remember the way my body immediately responded to his lust-filled gaze and how I could feel his gaze shoot through me. It was fluid as an embrace and my eyes couldn't help but dart to his fingers.

They were long and artistic fingers. I remembered how they had curled around my body when he tried to kiss me, how they'd made me want to beg him to never let go. There was a small callus on the one hand where he must have held a paint brush many times. His hands were so different then the men I'd been with and in those first few hours I fell in love with them. What they could do to me…

I would remember the way his eyes had darted to mine when he realized I had been rattled. The lust dropped from him suddenly like a towel falling from a nude body before love-making. For a moment it was there and the next he was turning around to give me privacy. His hands were curled into fists and I wished I could soothe that discomfort from him. I shouldn't have felt that way but I did.

I would always remember the way I had paused. I sat there dumb-founded as I felt this intense connection shoot through me. He was a suspect, a potential killer, yet I wondered if perhaps I did believe in love at first sight. I would bury it, pretending to be objective yet I knew my life was now entwined with this beautiful man. I could only hope my thread wouldn't be cut as my sister's had been.

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The picture lay within inches of my fingers and I couldn't tear my eyes away. It was only a second but in that second the horror was imprinted into my memory. Her eyes were open, brown like mine and frozen in eternal horror. Her arms were covered in blood and they were outstretched. Later I would analyze their position. Was she reaching for something?

Her legs were broken completely, splayed in a vulgar fashion. Her dress was bunched in an unnatural way and was stained a deep scarlet. The words were written across her body in something that resembled Giuseppe's own deep ink. The letters were formed with care as if they knew how I would view it. The script was indistinct, possibly feminine yet oddly masculine. There was nothing to be gained from the picture other than a threat.

Damon had rushed in so quickly that I wondered if the door had been locked. He sauntered in as though I had called him into the room and I desperately wanted to push the picture to the floor. She had been his wife and he shouldn't see her like that. I reached out for a moment but I froze when I noticed he knew something was wrong. The way his eyes leapt to my face I knew I couldn't hide it from him. He would know somehow and he would find out on his own.

He had turned from me to give me a moment of privacy. I stared down at my partial nudity and nearly shrugged it off. I was a very attractive woman and one set of breasts was like another right? I glanced down again and immediately felt shy. What if she was better looking? Then it hit me, would I always wonder about Katherine? Would she always be my greatest competition?

I pulled my shirt over my bare breasts and tugged my pants back on, reaching out to touch his hand. He looked down at me with a questioning gaze. I said nothing as I gestured towards the picture. I turned from it and moved towards the windows, needing to distance myself from him and the photo. He moved away and lifted the picture softly. I stared out the window at the garden and waited for his response.

Moments passed as I stared at the starry sky. We didn't have stars like that where I came from. You were lucky if you saw any let alone the thousands visible here. In another time and place I would have laid out there, matching constellations to names and enjoying the cool night air. It wasn't to be though and I shook my head against those calmer visions.

I felt him behind me, his hands sliding around my waist. It wasn't proper for me to be in his embrace again after having only known him for a day but he held me there, asking me to allow him this. He kissed my temple gently and I nearly melted against him. We didn't really know each other but for the first time since I was little, I felt safe.

"I know it's not supposed to be like this," he said quietly. "I know you're here to solve my father's murder and I am practically prime suspect, but for some reason I...can't leave you alone." His voice was hushed as his lips brushed over my temple.

"I know," I whispered back. "I would hate if you killed him."

"And her?" he asked softly.

"And her," I answered. He spun me quickly, pressing his forehead to mine. We gazed in each other's eyes for long moments before he spoke again.

"I'll be next door when you feel like you need a sounding board or a partner," he whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Damon..." I whispered as he neared the door. He turned to face me and smiled slyly.

"Next time, lose the bottoms too," he said with a wink. Just like that, he was gone as if he'd never been there and I pressed my hand to my thundering heart. As I turned to the bed I noticed he had taken the picture and in its place left a key. To what, I'm sure I would find out.

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The days began to pass quickly as I started to establish alibis. The trouble was time of death was a bit questionable. I couldn't get a precise time since he had been poisoned. It was entirely possible someone had planted it at any time. Basically I needed real motives and then evidence they had been here. That was incredibly difficult since we were all here now. Anyone could have planted poison at any time.

I sighed heavily as I stood outside of Bonnie Bennett's shop. She was the first person on my list who wasn't staying at the Boarding House. After being unable to reach her for days I finally set up an appointment with her. She did tarot readings; work with crystal balls, palm reading, etc. I could surely sit for a little while and listen to her stories. I didn't believe in any of that stuff but some people paid a lot of money to believe in it.

The building blended and I nearly passed it in my haste. I glanced at the plain window with window boxes filled with yellow flowers. There was a newly painted awning and a thin sign lettered with white.

"Life's Surprises"

"Hello Miss Gilbert," Bonnie Bennett said from the doorway. She was dressed in one of those flowing, gypsy skirts and a peasant blouse. Her hair was up in a scarf and her jewelry hung low. She looked every bit a gypsy and I found it slightly unsettling. "I was expecting you sooner or later and I've set aside an extra thirty minutes for our session. Do come in!"

"Thank you," I replied as I stepped inside her shop. The bell over the door chimed as she shut it behind us and she gave me a moment to look around. Her shop was bright but contained all those smells that seemed a little too strong for my taste. It wasn't so much the combination of smells but that feeling of being in a foreign land that bothered me. I liked to know exactly what I was smelling and what it was meant to do.

"Cinnamon and some lilacs," she said softly. "I find it soothing but I could burn other candles if you find it off-putting." She moved closer to the large counter towards the back and blew out the three candles back there. I turned to look at the shelves of books and other occult paraphernalia.

"It is homeopathic medicine, not the occult," she said sharply. I turned to face her and she smiled knowingly. "I'm aware my abilities are a bit strange but I assure you it is all well and good."

"You're claiming you can read my mind?" I asked incredulously. Her smile never faltered and she held my gaze for a few moments.

"My family has always had a bit of magic in us. Call me what you will but I assure you I can't hear every thought, merely the general idea when I so choose," she explained. She reached behind her and pulled back a curtain. "If you'd like to get started, follow me please."

"Weird stuff," I murmured as I followed her behind the counter. The room beyond looked much too normal for a fortune teller. The room was all windows with a glass-topped table and comfy chairs. Ivy climbed the walls and baskets of flowers hung from every available beam. The smell of incense seemed subtle here and it was very comforting.

"Please take a seat, Miss Gilbert," she said as she gestured towards the pink armchair. "I thought you might prefer the pink since Mr. Salvatore seems to like it so much."

"How did you know that?" I asked fiercely. It had been a private moment and I'd told no one about his words. Maybe...maybe Damon had told someone. I hadn't seen him in days but that didn't mean he wasn't talking to other people.

"Damon has always viewed people by their colors on his palette. Katherine was a soft blue and you are a vibrant pink. He once told me I was a comforting green. I think he was trying to be apologetic after he accidentally ruined my favorite dress. Regardless he can be sweet when he's not being an ass," she explained.

"He can be an ass?" I asked as I sat down on the pillowy cushions. She giggled girlishly and I found myself staring at her rare beauty. She was a woman who could vanish in a room and no one would miss her or she could be the most radiant person in the room if she chose. It was an interesting quality in a small town like this one.

"Oh Damon Salvatore has caused enough trouble over the years to fill books. He played every prank in the book when we were all in school," she said with a laugh. "To be honest he wasn't really nice to anyone, not even Katherine."

"Really? They got married though," I replied.

"I never really understood it but it wasn't my place. Damon had gone off gallivanting in Europe and suddenly came home with a wife whom no one particularly liked," she said thoughtfully. "His father disowned him pretty much immediately but Damon stuck by her. He must have been unhappy to be married to her."

"Why do you say that?" I asked. I knew virtually nothing about Katherine, the person and here was someone who might have some of the answers. She glanced out the window and I realized she was trying to phrase her answer appropriately.

"Katherine wasn't a pleasant person to say the least but other than that she was four years younger than Damon. She was gorgeous but she was still a freshman when he was a senior. They hardly crossed paths except at Founding Family events," she explained. "In fact we all thought it was strange when they happened to meet in Europe. She went two weeks earlier than she had been telling everyone. It wasn't like her."

"So you think she planned to bump into Damon?" I asked.

"He was...is the heir to billions. He's one of the greatest catches in the country and many women tried to trap him. He was much too clever for them," she replied.

"But not Katherine?"

"I guess it was her...own money that appealed to him. She was wealthy enough to have what she wanted and didn't really need his money. It seemed like genuine love on his part," she answered. She shook her head lightly as if to dispel some demons. Her hair shook around her face and once again I was struck by her bewitching manner. Could Giuseppe have been bewitched by her?

"What money?" I asked suddenly. Katherine didn't actually have any money other than a small trust which she couldn't touch until she had a child or reached the age of forty. Grandfather Gilbert had made sure of that. My own trust had been gifted upon my 21st birthday due to late changes after my father had sent me away. It had dwindled quickly with my mother's illness and the subsequent beginnings of my business. Katherine's would have been much larger but she still couldn't touch it.

"Her inheritance..."

"Couldn't touch it until the birth of a child or her fortieth. Where did the money come from?" I wondered.

"Damon didn't have any once they were married but they lived very well...or so I'm told," she said. "I don't really frequent those societal circles."

"You spent a lot of time with Giuseppe," I challenged. A mask slipped over her features, shielding her feelings from me. She turned to glance out the window again and as if she had some control over her surroundings, the room grew dark.

"He was a good man," she said simply. "He deserved better than that."

"I think so too," I replied. She turned to look at me curiously.

"You genuinely mean that," she said softly. "He was someone who regretted a great many of his decisions. He came to me when he began to question his path. I merely provided him with some herbs to help his arthritis and some advice. Damon made a mistake and Giuseppe regretted losing his son."

"Were you more than his friend?" I had to ask that question and I knew she could easily become offended. She smiled broadly for a moment and giggled again.

"Oh goodness, no! Giuseppe was looking for someone like a sister and I filled that role as best I could. Medicine and advice was all I offered...well an occasional ride to a meeting when Richard had a day off," she explained.

"Do you think Richard...?"

"No! He loved Giuseppe as a father and he had little to gain from that tragedy," she said vehemently. She paused for a moment and I knew a question was coming. "You think Katherine was murdered as well?"

"I..." I began, "I think so. I've seen pictures of the crime scene and it looks as though she may have been forced over the railing."

"Do you have a suspect?" she asked softly.

"Not yet but I do think they are connected. I'm not sure the same killer is involved but these events don't seem to be...separate," I explained. She nodded thoughtfully and turned to grab something from a nearby basket.

"Giuseppe asked me to give this to you when I believed in your ability to do the job. I had my doubts but he urged me to meet with you first," she said with a smile. The envelope passed into my hand quickly before she resumed, "He had a great deal of faith in you Miss Gilbert and if it was good enough for him then it's good enough for me."

"Thank you?" I said. The envelope had Giuseppe's tidy scrawl written on the front and I rubbed my finger over it.

"You can open that later," she began again. "It's time for your reading."

"Oh no thanks. I really just wanted to talk to you a little," I said standing up. I really didn't want to go through with this part of the appointment. She reached out and grabbed my hand quickly, turning it over.

"I don't do normal readings Miss Gilbert but I think you'll enjoy it," she said simply as she traced a few lines on my palm. I sighed loudly and took my seat again. Her grip was firm and she was going to keep me here no matter what. Might as well get it over with.

"Elena, please," I said with resignation.

"Elena then," she said quickly. "Hmm...a very strong woman naturally. You've faced great hardship in the past but you are finally settling into your life. Oh! but you are unhappy, it seems. Something's missing in your life."

"I'm happy enough," I replied with a groan.

"Hmm...you loved your mother deeply but she left you suddenly. You are alone yet you hate feeling that way. Perhaps a companion?" She asked softly. I shrugged so she continued in her flowing rambling.

"Passion in your life. Someone makes your heart sing but you will try to hide from it. Passion can make you weak but by letting it consume you, strength will be found."

"You talk in riddles," I said.

"Hmm. There is a cobra in your midst. Someone has threatened you but they are not the true danger. Something lurks deeper," she trailed off. "Oh my goodness!" She dropped my hand quickly.

"A third death! Someone will die shortly and you will be unable to save them," she said with a gasp. "BUT...you will find yourself riddled with anger and then you will find strength to continue your work."

"Miss Bennett?" I asked as I stood up as she moved away from the table. She gasped lightly and rushed through the curtain to her shop. She reached out and lit a candle, leaning in to breathe the strong scent. Something had rattled her and it wouldn't do my any good to pursue any more questions.

"That will be all for today Elena. Please close the door on your way out," she said as she headed for a set of steps. "We'll talk again and when we do...call me Bonnie."

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The Boarding House looked the same as I parked my car. As I got out of my car I was immediately ripped forward. I glanced up at the person grabbing me and came face to face with Mr. Elijah Trudeau. He looked me up and down and I began to struggle to get out of his grasp.

"Calm down Miss Gilbert. I merely wish to talk," he said in a soothing voice.

"You don't need to hold me here Mr. Trudeau. I assure you I can talk just fine," I replied bitingly.

"Of course, sorry," he said quickly. "I heard you saw Miss Bennett."

"Is that a crime?"

"No but she is rather...strange," he said quickly.

"I sort of like her. She's very interesting and she had a lot to say," I said as I turned to grab my bag. He scoffed and I was immediately defensive of Bonnie. She was strange but she seemed nice enough even if she liked to speak in riddles.

"You can't take anything she says seriously. She hates the wealthy and she's incredibly judgmental. She nearly convinced Giuseppe to donate a large bulk of his estate to her charity!" he exclaimed.

"I hadn't heard that one but I'll have to ask her about it," I said with a yawn. "I'm sorry but I'll have to catch up with you later."

He blocked my path as I tried to walk past him. His hand came out but didn't touch me as he tried to stop me from leaving. He smirked knowingly and I tapped my foot while I waited for him to talk.

"You need to leave town," he said.

"Is that a threat?" I replied.

"No. It's a warning. People who mess with these people tend to not last long. Katherine managed three years but she was lucky. Get out now before something happens to you," he said. His words echoed through my head and I remembered the graphic picture left on my bed. The hauntingly familiar words moved through me and I wondered if he'd been behind it.

"I don't run from my commitments. I was hired to solve a murder and I'm going to do my best to do so. I suggest you move now before I make you move," I said venomously. I didn't like his arrogance and I would take care of that if I needed to. I hated people telling me to give up and move along. I didn't quit.

"I don't think you heard me," he said menacingly as he grabbed my arm and pushed me towards the car. "You will pack your bags and leave town or Klaus will handle the problem."

"We'll see him try," I replied.

"Well let me tell you something," he whispered as he leaned in. "I can't control him and he likes to have a bit of fun with women. He'll eat you up and spit you out. Take my advice and leave now."

"Get away from her!" a familiar voice called out. I turned and saw Damon hurrying towards us. "Get the hell away from her!"

"Damon Salvatore...protecting a damsel?" Elijah said with a smirk. "How noble."

"I suggest you get the fuck off my property before I have you arrested," he threatened. Elijah laughed loudly before stepping away from me.

"You forget your father's will. I can come and go as I please," he said slyly. "Perhaps I'll visit later when Miss Gilbert's alone..."

"I don't give a fuck about my father's will. You'll stay away from her if I have to remove you myself!" Damon said fiercely as he stepped in front of me. "Get out of here!"

"Very well. I'll see you later Elena. Next time your dark knight won't be around," he said. I knew it was a promise as he got in his car and sped out of the driveway. Damon turned to face me and then looked away sheepishly.

"Sorry about that," he said suddenly.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" I screeched.

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So Damon's jumping in the middle of things now. I know Bonnie didn't reveal a whole lot but she'll be back soon enough. Next chapter we meet Isobel and Alaric a bit and maybe some Delena…what do you think?

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	6. The Kiss

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Also, this was a fun chapter! I hope you enjoy!

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"What the hell do you think you're doing!" I screeched. Damon turned to face me with a look of utter disbelief. He folded his arms in front of him and I noticed his defensive stance. Good! He should take a step back! I didn't need anyone playing the hero with me.

"What do you mean what I am I doing?" he asked. "I'm getting that asshole off my property!" For the first time since I'd seen him, his voice held something other than amusement. I glared up at him and was slightly displeased when he didn't cower.

"I didn't need your help!" I replied, anger rising.

"Elijah was threatening you with virtual rape or a brutal attack and you didn't need my help?" he asked in disbelief. "Trust me; you don't want to be on the Trudeau's shit list. They will eat you up and spit you out and no one will find the body."

"I can take care of myself!" I said forcefully. I didn't like being a damsel and when I discovered how much life could suck when my parents divorced, princesses or damsels meant nothing to me. He stared me down and I realized he was going to fight me on this one. He stepped forward and I steeled myself. Where was I going to go anyway with the car door already pressed to my back?

"You'll get yourself killed!" He argued. His eyes were blazing with something I couldn't figure out. His fingers were clenched and I couldn't help but wonder why he was so upset. It wasn't like there was anything between us, not really.

"It's not your concern!" I shot back. "If I get myself killed, what does it matter to you! It's my fucking life!"

I didn't have a second to suck in a breath before he was on me. His lips sought mine in a hunger I'd never experienced before in my entire life. His lips were warm and firm, unyielding as he controlled this kiss filled with anger. I think I whimpered when his hands slid to my hips, jerking me towards him.

My hands flew out as I moved but they wrapped around his neck...traitors. His thumbs brushed against the sliver of skin exposed above my jeans. The skin beneath his fingers erupted in little explosions of sensation. He was everywhere around me and I couldn't find the strength to escape his pull.

His taste was astounding as it penetrated my parting lips. He was spicy in a way that made you want more but left a slight burning. It was like eating a spicy food which gave you a pleasurable burning aftertaste that you wanted to duplicate.

My eyes were open in surprise while his were closed. He had delicate lashes against his pale skin and I watched as the lines around his eyes seemed to wrinkle in some sort of pleasure. Everything in his posture screamed a level of contentment but his eyes had held anger.

Warmth fled through my body and I melted against him, his arms grasping me to support my weight. I gasped as his tongue teased my lips, slipping inside to caress mine. My eyes finally drifted shut and I let myself drift in the pleasurable kiss. Suddenly I realized what I was doing and I began to push at him.

"Stop it and let me kiss you," he murmured as I separated us for a moment. I felt like a woman trying to push away an ardent lover. He was insistent and it took a lot of power to push him back slightly. Even then he wouldn't allow more than a few inches before he tugged me back. He was much stronger than he looked. His lithe, lean body held surprising muscles and strength that could make any woman quiver.

"You should be mourning your wife," I bit out. He frowned from my tone before reaching up to cup my face.

"I mourned the loss of my marriage a long time ago and Katherine will not make me feel guilty for feeling anything," he said. His eyes were soft, a calm blue as he held my gaze. His fingers stroked my cheeks as he pulled me to meet his lips again.

My mind reeled with this little grain of truth embedded in his words. What did he mean his marriage had been over for a long time? What did he mean he hadn't felt anything in a long time? What did he...ohhh tongue...

He was a passionate kisser and I could understand how he could have any woman he wanted. He could just kiss them and they'd beg him to take them to bed. I wanted to beg him to take me to bed but I couldn't bring myself to. He was still a suspect and he could be using this attraction to distract me.

"Well she works fast," a woman said from nearby. We separated hastily but Damon kept a hand on my hip. I came face to face with Isobel Saltzman and Lexi Salvatore. Both women looked at me like I was a whore, caught selling my wares on the street. Damon's fingers tightened on my hip for a second before relaxing to stroke my hip softly. He was oddly attentive.

"Excuse me?" I raged. They smirked at my physical state and I couldn't understand it. I was fully dressed.

"You have sex hair, cheeks flushed and swollen lips," Damon whispered. "It's arousing."

"Stop it!" I hissed. He chuckled quietly but slid his hand to my lower back. He was certainly maddening!

"I thought she would at least pretend to not be her sister," Isobel insinuated.

"Well they are identical. No wonder she's trying to seduce the heir of the Salvatore fortune or at least, the heir for now," Lexi cackled. She swept her hair over his shoulder and glared at me.

"For your information ladies, I'm the one seducing," Damon said. "If Elena had her way, I would be drawn and quartered. She's very...feisty." I seethed in anger and he petted my ass in amusement. I glared up at him and he smiled knowingly.

"It's just that Gilbert promiscuity," Isobel said. "No need to concern ourselves. Everyone knew about Katherine's infidelities and I'm sure Damon will learn his mistake soon enough." Lexi nodded and they laughed as they headed towards the house, hips swaying suggestively.

"It seems they wouldn't mind sampling your...bedroom prowess," I remarked. Damon laughed loudly before kissing the side of my head.

"Isobel and I had a fling once but I broke it off. She's bitter," he said. "Join me for dinner."

"I don't like commands," I replied. His fingers tangled in my hair and he pulled my head back, baring my neck to him.

"You can't always be in control Elena," he said firmly. He kissed me fully on the mouth, bending me backwards until I couldn't support myself. My eyes were already pressed tightly shut and I knew he'd won. He was under my skin and I...would have trouble removing his unique strength.

"Damon," I said quietly as he pulled back a little. I was weak-kneed and felt like an addict looking for another hit. This man was a drug and I didn't know if I had the strength to pull away

"Tomorrow night," he said. He released me and I stumbled against the car door, grasping the frame tightly. He walked away from me without a backwards glance, his hands in his pockets and his head held high. He'd learn I didn't jump when a man said to jump.

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"Miss Gilbert," Richard began as I entered the house. I turned to face him and he took my jacket. "Mr. Saltzman wanted to arrange a discussion when you have time. He's in the library."

"Thank you Richard. I'll talk to him," I said guardedly. I wasn't sure what to do about him since Giuseppe clearly didn't want me to trust him but he seemed so harmless. No warning bells went off in my head but he did have that eerie quality of sneaking up on me.

"Of course Miss Gilbert. Mr. Salvatore wished me to tell you he put a new lock on your door and he'll give you the key tomorrow evening. He didn't appreciate certain things ending up in your room," Richard said knowingly.

"Um...thank you?" I said as I stormed off. While I appreciated the idea behind Damon's actions, I couldn't appreciate the fact he didn't ask me first. I blew into my room, chucking my bag and boots across the room. I turned to look at the new lock and whistled. It was a top of the line dead bolt and I was sure I couldn't even pick it.

"Beautiful work..." I whispered. I ran a finger down the inside lock and turned it, pleased with the silent sliding of the dead bolt. I spun around and reached down to unzip my jeans. I felt dirty after a day of sleuthing and I threw them over towards the couch. I untucked Giuseppe's letter and threw that on the end table. I'd look over that one later. With my shirt thrown on the floor, I headed for my bag.

I dipped my hand in looking for a new pair of jeans but my fingers closed over something soft and silky. I turned and reached in with both hands and tugged out...ohhhh my!

A champagne silk dress slid through my hands effortlessly. It shimmered in the light as I grasped the thread-thin straps and held it up. I stared at it for a long time trying to determine where it came from. I glanced down in the bag and lifted a small card from the interior.

_Wear it tonight. Be ready by Seven. Oh, and you'll get your clothes back after. ~Damon_

I sighed and laid the dress over the bottom of the bed. I was determined to not go but he was making it increasingly difficult. I considered racing over to his room and demanding my clothes back but his door would be locked and he'd be conveniently elsewhere until seven. Damn him!

I tugged the dress over my head and shuttered as it caressed my skin. It hugged all of my curves perfectly and I spun to stare in the full-length mirror. It was like this dress was made for me and I didn't like the implication Katherine had been my size and I had to wonder if I was wearing one of dresses. Was that morbid?

I frowned and reached back for the other contents of the bag. Out slid a pair of champagne colored pumps and a light pink wrap. I frowned at the high-heels but I leaned down to slide them on. They fit perfectly and I flexed my arches experimentally. These were designer shoes; comfortable, stylish, and ridiculously expensive.

I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror. Was that a smile? Oh god, I liked it! I liked this way of pursuit. For the first time it wasn't a cheesy pick-up line followed by a beer at the local bar. Was it okay to like this? Was it okay to hope he spent more than twenty dollars on dinner? In my experience that was reserved for women with sophistication and women...women like Katherine.

I shook my head and turned to leave my room. I still had to meet with Alaric anyway. I hoped he didn't mind my...dinner clothes.

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"Mr. Saltzman?" I called as I knocked on the door of the library. I didn't hear anything so I nudged the door open. I stepped inside and gasped. This room was as big basketball court with floor to ceiling bookcases. Like the library in "Beauty and the Beast" it had dark wood ladders and golden railings around small balconies. Beneath my feet were ridiculously expensive rugs.

I smiled at the dim lighting from antique lamps and the large, comfy-looking couches. This was a true reading room and I stuffed down the urge to browse for hours. I glanced at my watch and nearly swore. I only had twenty minutes before Damon sought me out. That man would continue to drive me completely crazy.

"Ahh!" I shouted when two bodies came flying before me. I jumped back and watched as two sweaty men came rolling to the ground before me. From the right there was a door that had been opened which seemed to lead to some sort of indoor gym. From the pictures I recognized the one man as Alaric Saltzman and the other as Tyler Lockwood.

"Good God! Stop trying to elbow me!" Alaric yelled as Tyler attempted to throw him off.

"Stop it!" I cried as I reached out and grabbed Tyler's ear lobe. One quick tug and he came sprawling onto the floor in front of me. Alaric laughed loudly and pulled himself up, smiling broadly at the hold I had on Tyler.

"You can let him go Miss Gilbert," Alaric said gleefully. "We were only having a wrestling match."

"Yes please let go of my ear!" Tyler whined. I let go of him and he stumbled to his feet, massaging his reddened ear. "God! That fucking hurt!"

"Well you surprised me," I explained. Tyler glared at me and then smiled broadly.

"Well I'm going to take off. Good match Ric but I totally kicked your butt! Oh and Elena, I love the dress," he said with a smile as he left the room. I turned back to Alaric and he smiled as he climbed to his feet.

"He really needs to work on his moves. It's getting more difficult to lose on purpose," he said. "Do you mind handing me that towel?" I spun around and found a plush towel lying across the bench inside the door.

"Why is it here?" I asked as he grabbed it from me, wrapping it around his shoulders. He was an attractive man and I could understand why Giuseppe had mentioned Jenna Sommers subtle attraction to him.

"I always admired the gym when Giuseppe and I were on good terms and a good match tends to explode outwards. The only other door is to the hallway so I had a feeling we'd end up in here. It's disappointing since it's such a beautiful room," he explained. He smiled charmingly and gestured towards two nearby couches.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked as we took seats across from each other. He nodded and gestured to a bone white tea set sitting on a tray nearby.

"I asked Richard to prepare it since he mentioned you liked tea," he offered. I took the delicate cup and wondered if I made enough to afford the cup. He handed me an antique silver spoon. I stirred the tea gently and waited for Alaric to continue.

"I know you want to speak to all of us about Giuseppe's murder. I want to offer my assistance in any way and say I really don't think any of us were involved. I've know these people for the majority of my life and I don't think any of us have it in us," Alaric said.

"Look in my experience, a family member or friend is the most likely suspect. It doesn't always happen that way but he believed it was someone he knew. I owe it to him to investigate. He was the only one who really believed in my abilities," I said softly. My mother hadn't even believed in my abilities to be an investigator. She had wanted me to be a doctor or lawyer or writer.

"I only spoke to Giuseppe twice after he married Lexi and uh the last time was about three months before his death," he began. "He mentioned you in passing, wondering if you were okay. I think he regretted not helping your mother out when John divorced her. He was talking about flying up to visit you but uh before he could, Katherine died. I think he was worrying about Damon then."

"Yeah, I know," I replied. "So...um where were you during the time of Giuseppe's death?"

"Wow, change of topic," he said with a chuckle. "I don't have an alibi honestly. Isobel and I were fighting so I was staying at a hotel. I heard of his death when I went to work."

"You're a teacher right?"

"Yes, a professor at the community college. I teach paranormal history with a concentration in creature lore," he said proudly.

"Like vampires?" I asked. I never saw anything particularly attractive in them but other women seemed to faint when some movie came on starring some pale, unrealistic vampire.

"God, I wish they'd stop making TV shows and movies romanticizing them. Realistically they'd be killers with seductive qualities. I don't think a brooding vampire is incredibly realistic and not all that romantic," he said in a huff.

"I think the killer with seductive qualities could be interesting," I said.

"Ah, well I'm not a fan even though the college makes me teach an entire course on vampire lore," he sighed. "Look let me tell you something about Giuseppe." He paused and looked around as if to see if people were hiding behind the shelves. I glanced around and then felt like an idiot. No one was lurking for goodness sake. It was a library.

"What?" I finally asked when it didn't seem like he was planning on continuing.

"If Giuseppe left anything he wanted you to find or something he didn't want anyone else to find, he would have hidden it in Sophia's room. She had all these secret compartments since she loved hidden staircases and fake walls...you know all that stuff from old mysteries?"

"Yeah?"

"When they got married, it was a present. He put all these secret places in there and told her to find them. I'm sure there are ones she never found but she used to hide her treasures in some of them," he replied. "If there was one place to look, it would be there."

"Why are you being so helpful?" I asked. Everyone else seemed to dislike my sudden intrusion which was understandable yet dreadfully annoying.

"Because I owe it to your Mom," he said surprisingly.

"My mom?"

"She was really nice to me when I was a teenager and I owe it to her to help you out. Plus I'm pretty good friends with Damon and when he sets his mind on something; you might as well help out. He always gets what he wants and it looks like he's set his sights on you," he said with a smile.

"Well regardless of his wants, I make my own decisions and I'm not looking for a bedmate," I replied in a huff.

"Whether or not you're looking for it, love tends to find you," he said. "I do believe Damon's growing impatient waiting for you. He's been lurking outside the door."

"Thanks for the tea Mr. Saltzman. This has been enlightening," I said as I sat the tea cup down on the table. He nodded and as I left him to his tea, I found myself wishing he wasn't involved. Was it normal to hope the evil witches did it?

Before I could open the door, it slid open. I glanced up and saw Damon standing there in a black button-down and dress slacks. God he was to die for, all chocolately goodness with a devilish smirk. In fact that infernal smirk was already curling when he noticed my parted lips and deep breaths.

"See something you like?" He murmured as he reached out to pull me forward. His hand slid against mine and he let out a little whistle. "Beautiful."

"You've seen it all before," I replied.

"Not like this," he said. "You need to stop trying to compare yourself to her. There really is no comparison."

"Damon," I said softly. He smiled as he pulled me towards him, using that annoying ability of making me melt. He kissed me softly, his fingers doing teasing things along my jaw.

"I could eat you up," he said. When I didn't respond he did some sort of flirty eye thing that made my toes curl in those ridiculously expensive shoes. "And maybe...I'll do just that."

Fuck, I was screwed. Well was that really a bad thing?

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	7. The Unexpected

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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I used to say I was perfectly happy being alone and unattached. I used to say the usual thing about not needing a man to be happy. Maybe that statement should be amended. You don't need a man to be happy unless he's the one who makes you happier. Looking back on our date, I realized I was sadly mistaken about being content with my life. Was it normal for a woman to just melt when a man touched her innocently? Well perhaps that's the wrong question since nothing Damon did could really be construed as innocent. Every touch held a promise of more to come if I'd only allow myself to succumb.

After his seductive words, he acted like a man who'd never think to be seductive at all. He took my hand in his and kissed it softly before leading me down the stairs and outside into the cool night air. He was silent which was unusual but oddly comforting. He pulled me down the brick path through the gardens, through the old gazebo until we came to a little stone path winding into the woods.

"Do you trust me?" he asked softly as he spun to face me. He did nothing but lift my hand up to his shoulder and wait for an answer. I stared at him and just wished I felt some inkling of danger but it never came. His stormy eyes betrayed his need to have me trust him, to allow him to give me a surprise. He swallowed convulsively and I smiled.

"Yes," I whispered. It wasn't like me to trust blindly but he brought it out in me. He smiled this boyish, pleasured smile as he leaned down to kiss me chastely. He tugged me until he could rest his arm on my lower back, right above the skirt of my dress. He was like a little boy as he led me forward in excitement. I lost myself in his enthusiasm, pretending for the first time since I could remember there wasn't death, wasn't a case, wasn't Katherine. There was just me and an attractive man who wanted to have dinner with me!

"I know this is a bit...of a wrong time to do this but I had to see you tonight," he said suddenly. I looked up at him and noticed his jaw was locked in determination. "I don't know why but I just had to see you."

"What is it about me?" I asked shyly.

"I don't know. You walked in that room and I...wondered how..."

"Katherine was standing there," I finished.

"Yes and no. For a second it was Katherine and then...there was you," he replied. "Just you." He didn't say anything else and I couldn't bring myself to say anything. What could that mean?

We came out of the woods suddenly that I wasn't aware it was coming. Surrounded by green foliage one minute and the next well...wow! I spun around and I felt his hand slip away as I looked at this place. It was like a stone patio right on the river. Lanterns hung from wires draped along the edges while a small table rested as close to the water as possible.

And the food! I'd never seen such a spread of fruits and vegetables, little sandwiches, big desserts cut into little bite-sized pieces, and more wine than I'd ever seen before in my life! He chuckled when I reached out to touch the fluffiest bread I'd ever seen.

"Do you like it?" He asked as he stood behind me, his hands sliding around my stomach.

"If I said yes, could I eat that strawberry?" I asked as I pointed at the biggest fucking strawberry in the history of the world.

"If you said yes, I'd feed you that strawberry," he said in a low voice, "each little piece." Every word was punctuated to remind me he was the predator tonight, not me. "I'm being forceful again."

"What if I said, I kind of like it?" I whispered. The breeze pulled around us like a shroud and I shivered against him. I knew his eyes were closed as mine were and I knew without a doubt he would seduce me here if I let him. But it would be over and maybe...it would really be over.

"You make me forget the food," he replied softly. I smiled at his tone. He pulled away and helped me sit; sliding the heavy chair as if it was made of plastic. He moved to sit across but changed his mind, sliding the chair beside mine and taking a seat.

"I figured we could talk and get to know each other since it seems to be a big issue with you," he said with a smile. I laughed at him and he reached out and poured the wine, some woodsy thing that made my head spin. "Tell me about yourself. Tell me everything."

"There's really not much to say," I said quickly. "Grew up poor, decided to become a detective, and here we are."

"Why a detective?" he asked. It was a question I was used to but never in this situation. I usually dated cops and their policy was P.I. =damaged childhood. They weren't wrong exactly but I didn't really like stereotypes.

"I grew up reading Sue Grafton, Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Peters, and all the other great mystery writers. They were there for me when I didn't have much else. I...they gave me a happy ending that I didn't have," I explained. It was odd to confess it so easily. Usually I lied and claimed I fell into it or I had wanted to be a cop but didn't like the structure. It was just something I had wanted to do. "I've never...I've never told anyone before."

"Thanks for sharing," he replied. He didn't say anything else before reaching out to put small bite-sized crab cakes and little bits of potato. "When I was three I wanted to be a cop."

"Really?" I asked. Surprise was probably written all over my face. He didn't look like a cop nor did he seem to have that quality they all seemed to have. He was a bit forceful but if anything it screamed P.I. not cop.

"I told my mom and she looked at me and said, 'not my boy. You'll be an artist,' and then she bought me my first art set," he explained with a wistful smile. "I've been one ever since."

"Do you love it?" I asked softly, turning and nearly brushing our lips together.

"It's enough usually. Plus it allows me to paint the most beautiful women," he said softly. "You know, I've started one for you."

"Me?" I said loudly. He chuckled and kissed me softly.

"Artemis of course," he said quickly. "Goddess of the hunt, armed with a bow and arrow." I didn't say anything since I couldn't seem to reconcile the idea of me being the subject of a painting. He offered me a glass of wine and I sipped it shakily. This was much too fast and much too intense for me.

"I..." I cleared my throat softly, "Um...have you sold much?"

"Art? No," he replied. "I usually can't bear to part with my work. I've sold a few, donated a few more but I hold the majority of them in a vault. Perhaps I'll get rid of a lot of them since they don't bring me much solace."

"Because of Katherine?' I asked.

"Yes. It's too...raw to look at the work I've done with her around," he replied.

"What was she like?" I asked. It had gnawed at me for years. Who was Katherine? What was she really like and were we alike in anything?

"The type of woman to trap a man," he replied bitterly. His hand had slipped to my thigh and he squeezed harshly. Apparently there was still a lot of anger there.

"She pretended to be pregnant?" I asked, catching on quickly. It wasn't the first time I'd heard that story and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Was my twin really capable of something like that?

"She had me going for a few months and then she said it must have been a mistake. We were already married, disowned, and surviving off the dregs of my trust fund. I'm a prideful man and I couldn't admit it to my father," he explained.

"You wanted a child?" I asked surprised. He was still young and it seemed odd how much he seemed upset by the idea. He shook his head slightly in the affirmative before looking away from me.

"Katherine probably would have been a passing relationship until she told me she was pregnant. I love children," he said softly. "I am also somewhat old-fashioned. When a man gets a woman pregnant, he marries her."

"It's a noble thought," I replied. "I'm sorry."

"I mourned the loss of that non-existent child a long time ago," he said. "I figured maybe I'd get lucky someday and maybe she'd have one but Katherine didn't want children. They...were a curse for her."

"You're still young," I offered. "Maybe you'll love again."

"I should warn you I'm in love with you," he replied simply. He sounded as if it was the easiest thing in the world. It was effortless but said with conviction. He was staring at me, his eyes piercing into me. What the hell could he mean?

"That's ridiculous! You don't even know me," I screeched. He smiled sadly while allowing me to stand and pace around the table. "Absolutely ridiculous," I muttered.

"Salvatore men fall hard and they fall fast," he replied. "I married Katherine after a month. My father married my mother after two dates. Lexi after four." He stood suddenly and moved towards me, backing me towards the water. He moved like a panther, stalking towards me slowly. As if testing the waters, he reached out with palm up to touch me. I moved farther away from him. He was much too dangerous when he was touching me. I reached the short railing and stumbled into sitting. He continued, moving towards me until he could trap me effectively.

"I expect nothing," he whispered. "I have years to make you fall in love with me but you're under my skin and I don't want to dig you out."

"It's not possible," I replied. "I'm not..."

"I can't wait to get past all this and enjoy whatever time you'll give me but I like my feelings to be known," he murmured. "I like to declare my intentions."

"Damon..."

"This hasn't gone...well I had other things planned for tonight," he said with a smirk but then it drifted from his face. "I know you need to solve the murders and I'll give you everything I can to help. At the end of the day, I'll be in your corner convincing you to give me a chance."

"I...I can't...please," I whispered.

"You feel it, a connection," he replied. His hands drifted to my hips to steady me for a minute and I realized I was shaking. I rarely panicked and I rarely lost composure but here and now, I was falling. His touch was soft but it was intense and he leaned forward to press a kiss to my forehead. "I know you do. You felt it that first moment our eyes met. This is meant to happen."

"You just lost your wife," I fired back, finally finding my voice. She was always there haunting me and I couldn't forget I believed she was murdered. Could I just...overlook it?

"I lost her a long time ago but I won't feel guilty because of her," he said intensely. "She had plenty of lovers while we were married and now that we're not...well it's time I did something I wanted."

"So I'm a..."

"No," he cut off. "You're my second chance." His voice held conviction and I felt my heart make that odd first jump. It was a little unsettling but I decided to try for this. He seemed to sure and I could deal with my reservations over time. Plus an ally in all this would be really nice.

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After hard, passion-filled kisses he led me back to the table. We ate quietly, dining on odd delicacies I'd never had or could ever afford. He was playful as he fed me chunks of delicious fruit, bites of meat, and slices of subtle cheeses. We discussed books, music, art, casework, and the occasional previous lover. Well my previous lovers. His were one-night stands and then Katherine. Mine were cops, P.I.'s, and the occasional bartender.

As soon as possible he had pulled me towards the water's edge, easing my shoes from my feet. His fingers massaged knowingly before edging them into the cool water. He rolled up his pants, removed his shoes and socks, and joined me. He took my hand in his and sat there thoughtfully.

"So what do you know so far?" he asked.

"Katherine wasn't a suicide," I replied. I didn't like to share but he didn't need to coax since they slipped out effortlessly. "She was either thrown or pushed."

"Yes," he replied. "Katherine was much too vain to die that way. She was a pills sort of woman if anything." I turned to look at the man who could have killed his wife, my sister. The moonlight drifted over his features, creating shadows across his perfect features. He looked like he belonged in the darkness, coaxing beautiful women into dark alleyways. He could very easily be a predator.

"Where were you when she died?" I asked suddenly. His cheeks tightened in displeasure but it drifted away quickly. He looked down at me, stormy eyes meeting my calm ones. He didn't like this question.

"In a police station," he replied.

"What? Why?" I asked. Twenty questions immediately came to mind and for a moment I hated Giuseppe Salvatore for putting me here.

"I was assisting with a case on art forgery. _Le Papillon_ had stolen a painting from the museum. They were keeping incredibly quiet about it but they wanted to be sure it was a forgery," he explained. "They're the best alibi...the police."

"_Le Papillon_?" I asked.

"They call him the butterfly since he flits from place to place. He's very good, one of the best I've seen. He copies the work on old canvas, dating it perfectly. He mixes pristine colors and then ages the work before switching it with the real one. Interpol's been after him for years now," Damon explained with reverence. He clearly looked-up to this art forger in some way. "He rivals the greats."

"How colorful," I said with a smile. "I wonder what my criminal name would be."

"La Tigresse, perhaps," he said jokingly. "I wouldn't want to come up against you." His arm which had slowly encircled my waist rubbed small designs on my lower back as he rested his head against my own. His other fingers still held mine and I let him because I'd never felt so content. He seemed to know this was new for me and he slipped into silence when I needed time to think.

"And Giuseppe?"

"I don't have an alibi since they haven't been able to narrow down his time of death. I unfortunately was alone, working on a project," he explained. "I wish I could tell you something else.

"I like your answer better. With a concrete alibi I would have been suspicious. There is no concrete time of death so no answer is better for now," I replied. "On another note, where did Katherine get her money?"

"Money?" he asked. "Her inheritance I guess."

"Nope," I said popping the 'p', "She couldn't touch the inheritance until she was forty or had a child. Since she was neither that wasn't where the money was coming from."

"John?" he offered hesitantly. He clearly hadn't thought about it before now. His head lifted from atop mine and I glanced up at him questioningly. "Where did she get her money?" His voice was soft as if the idea had never existed before now.

"I don't know where it came from," I said firmly. "I thought it was Salvatore money until I found out you were basically disowned. John has money sure but it's not old money like the Salvatores." It was true after all. Gilbert money was relatively new while the Salvatores could be traced back to 15th century Italy. So where had the money come from? If not from John and not from Damon then where? They lived in a five million dollar apartment and went to the fanciest parties but he didn't know where the money came from? How ridiculous!

"I never asked. I didn't really care about all of that but the money was necessary to Katherine. If you've been looking which I'm sure you have," he said with a smile, "you know I'm rarely in the pictures." That was also true. He was only in about three pictures while Katherine was with a different man constantly. I had just assumed they were friends but now maybe they were lovers?

"I guess it didn't matter at the time?" I said unconvincingly. He leaned his head back on mine and I melted against him. Why the hell did that happen? I nearly closed my eyes but his voice broke me out of that feeling.

"I know I look like I should care about the money since I grew up with it but it's not a big deal. I like being comfortable and I don't usually need much to be happy," he said. "Well...I actually wouldn't know since I haven't been happy in a long time."

"I know the feeling," I whispered. His arm tightened around me and I turned my head to look up at him. He had a knowing smile on his face that I wanted to smack off...or kiss...or lick. God I needed some serious sex!

"I'm happy now," he said simply. His lips were on mine again and I felt my feet flail in the water. One moment I was sitting, wrapped in his arms and the next I was laying across the dock still wrapped in his arms. He stayed slightly on my side as he dominated the kiss which was...teasing to say the least. I wanted his body on mine, in mine, wrapped around mine until I couldn't feel my toes anymore.

His slightly calloused hand held my face as the other propped him up. His legs tangled with mine a little and I latched onto them. I was dangerously close to the point of no return and I wasn't sure if I was ready to go further. As if sensing my hesitation he pulled back gently and I found myself staring up at him.

"Come back to my room," he whispered.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I replied.

"Not for that," he said with a suggestive smile. "I want to paint you."

"Oh," I breathed. His hand slid down to my hip and he pulled himself up. He held me down as he stared at me, his lips parting slightly. "What?"

"Will you..." he began, "can I paint you on my bed?"

"What?" I asked. Immediately my heart began pounding and he smiled broadly. His hand slid up again brushing over my breast and I clenched my thighs together.

"In your dress of course," he said. "No shoes and your hair mussed a little from a make-out session with yours truly. It would be perfect."

"Hmmm...make out session. Does it have to be you?" I asked teasingly. He tensed for a second before leaning down to kiss me again.

"Yes it most definitely has to be me." He said and I knew I would agree.

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I barely remembered the rest of that evening. After we left the dock, he had whisked me to his huge bedroom. Deposited on the bed, I found myself pulling him after me. An hour passed as we just kissed, enjoying each other and just having fun. For a while I pushed him beneath me and controlled our kisses, touches, and whispered words.

He never got to the painting or if he had I wasn't aware of it. At some point I fell asleep against him. When I woke up curled in his embrace I smiled and closed my eyes again. I liked waking up in his arms and I figured I'd enjoy it for a few more minutes. Who knew when and if it would happen again?

Morning was awkward a bit when we got out of bed. We hadn't had sex and we weren't really spending the night together but here we were. He escorted me to my room and spent an additional twenty minutes saying goodbye for now. My lips were deliciously swollen and my fingers tired from clutching him to me. Towards the end, key was pressed into my hand and he assured me it was the only copy before walking away.

For the first time in my life I walked right to my bed, did a girlish squeal, and fell into bed. I was like a teenager after her first kiss and I was smiling like an absolute idiot. I felt amazing and I hoped this feeling wouldn't go away. The night before had been perfect and Damon had been amazing.

As if the world was completely against me, the phone rang. I reached for my cell phone, noticing four new messages before answering the call. It was Jeremy.

"Hey Lena!" he said charmingly. I heard Anna yelling at him from across the room and I smiled. They were the domestics I aspired to be someday. It sounded like she was cooking breakfast for him.

"Hey Jere. What's up?" I asked. He laughed at something Anna said and then apologized quickly.

"I got the file on Katherine yesterday. Where were you?" he asked. I paused remembering I didn't have the complete investigation file. How could I have forgotten? Damon seemed to have that effect on me.

"What do you have?" I asked.

"Well she was definitely pushed. The M.E. said she hadn't gone far enough to have been thrown and her wounds were consistent with pushing. He also said her wrist was broken before the fall, probably moments beforehand," he explained. She would have been in pain and it would have been harder to fight off an attacker.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Yeah. She had three guests that day. The only reason the doorman remembered was because she rarely had guests at all. I think you'll like the findings," he said.

"Who?"

"Three of the people down there. Isobel Saltzman, Klaus Trudeau, and Stefan Salvatore," I breathed loudly at their names. I hadn't expected any of them at all!

"Isobel?" I asked. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Apparently she'd visited a few weeks before too and had gotten into an argument with Kat. Something about money," he said. "Honestly the doorman seems to think Kat owed her money or at least owed someone."

"Who was the last one?" I asked after a minute of silence. It was a little too much to process after spending so much time with Damon and away from the case.

"Stefan Salvatore. He signed in an hour before she died," he replied. "Elena, you watch yourself down there." His voice held a hint of fear and I perked up. Jeremy wasn't afraid of much and it worried me.

"Why?"

"Because he never signed out and no one saw him leave before she went over the balcony."

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Okay so I apparently lied again. I updated without completing review replies AND I updated before "Their Best Life". Aw well, I hope you aren't too upset. I just wanted to write the date and the end stuff so bad!

Well next up is review replies AND "Their Best Life".

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	8. The Salvatores

This chapter is brought to you by Damon's expected, yet rarely utilized asset.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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I slept the rest of the day. It wasn't the best idea honestly but spending that evening with Damon had exhausted me. He was very intense. I had gotten off the phone with Jeremy, locked the door, changed into sweats, and fell back into bed. I could mull over everything that had happened later. Somehow no matter what I did Damon wouldn't leave my thoughts.

I sprawled out on the bed, letting the pillows and sheets make me feel a bit more comfortable. My mind couldn't get his eyes out of my head. They were deep, vibrant eyes that held all sorts of power over me. I knew with one look, he could make me beg and I would love doing it. It was unsettling to say the least.

When my eyes closed I could feel his hands on me. We hadn't lost any clothes during the night but I knew the touches were nothing compared to bare skin on bare skin. An hour passed as I daydreamed about his fingers and I realized something I didn't like. I wanted him with me right now. I wanted to pull him into me and not let him go and I didn't want that...did I?

Either way I needed to deal with the rising Stefan issue but I couldn't do that until morning. I guessed the best thing to do in this situation would be to see about some dinner and maybe some hunting for secrets in the bedroom. I spun to look at the room and quickly noticed all of the easily concealed locations. There were hundreds of creases and bumped out wooden decorations.

A knock came at the door and I moved towards the door, unlocking the dead bolt. I peeked out and found myself smiling at Damon holding a box of Chinese food. He noticed me peeking and smiled broadly.

"Dinner?" he asked. I smiled and opened the door for him. He flew into the room marching over to put the box down in the sitting area. I turned back and locked the door, hoping it wasn't a bad move sliding the dead bolt back into place. Before I could turn around he had wrapped his arms around me, tugging him against me. He kissed me neck and my eyes fluttered shut effortlessly.

"Damon," I breathed. He chuckled softly before turning my face to meet his. Deep, drugging kisses were clearly his forte and I finally had to push myself back from him. His eyes were barely open and he had bedroom eyes. Well shit!

"I'll stop," he promised. He slid back and just watched me carefully. "God I want to take you to bed and damn everything else. I'll behave though."

"So when I give the green light?" I asked playfully.

"Oh nothing will stand in our way," he replied. "All night and if I can swing it...all day."

"Wow," I breathed. What a promise!

"I leave my woman feeling loved and satisfied," he said. He took my hand ending the conversation and led me towards dinner. It smelled amazing! Before I realized what was going on he had five dinners, three appetizers, and a bottle of wine sitting on the table in front of me. He had pulled paper plates, utensils, and glasses out on the table and was talking animatedly about his day. It just seemed so normal.

"I was trying to talk to Stefan about giving him a little trust or something to help him get back on his feet but he was completely out of it," he said. I perked up and listened as he continued to discuss how much Stefan was resisting any type of relationship with him. Damon seemed to not care but I could see it in his eyes. Damon loved his brother. It must be nice to have that kind of love for a sibling. He must have noticed how quiet I was because his hand was suddenly holding mine.

"Trust me, she was the one missing out," he said. I smiled but knocked his shoulder playfully.

"I'm hungry," I said. He smiled and reached out to pour the wine while I grabbed the closest container. Ohh...egg rolls...fuck.

"Egg rolls are the best aren't they?" he asked as he snatched one out of the container, popping into his mouth. It was definitely strange to see the suave, mysterious Damon Salvatore with half an egg roll hanging out of his mouth. It dangled there for a minute while he finished setting up dinner and I slid the container onto the table when an idea struck me.

He didn't make a peep as I threw myself onto his lap and bit the other end of the egg roll. I leaned back to chew and I noticed him doing the same as he watched me. I don't know if it was the extra sleep or if I was just bored but I found myself just wanting to play. So it was me who pulled him into a kiss. Screw work!

"Mmmm..." he said as his hands slid to my hips. It was a little uncomfortable, stiff and unyielding and then it hit me. Ohhh...God...! That's...well let's just say Damon is very, very well endowed. I thought I might just start grinding against him when my body responded to his incredible maleness. His smell was like cinnamon and his touch like fire as he shifted me, practically crawling over me as my head met the throw pillow.

I slid back a millimeter before resuming his purposeful movements. He had found a way between my thighs and I could feel him there, pressing intimately against me. His hands were soft as they slid over my sides and up to my face. As I've said before, his use of tongue should be banned. He could convince a nun into bed with a few swipes of his tongue.

"Dinner and then I need to work," I stuttered out as he moved to spend time on my neck. I needed to focus but he glanced up at me and smirked. If he pushed...well he wouldn't. Damon seemed to want me to give the green light for anything more and he pulled back with a look that screamed he knew how badly I wanted him.

"So...what do you need my help with?" he asked as he straightened and reached for the food once more. I was panting as I sat up and watched him spoon tastes of everything onto our plates. He handed me a glass of wine and I took it gratefully, sipping slowly to help calm my pounding heart.

"I..." I stuttered before clearing my throat, "Ric told me about all of these hidden areas in this room and I was wondering if you'd help me find some?"

"Sure. I know where two are since I used to hide things in them when I was little. The others are a bit of mystery," he said as he looked around the room. "Mom was secretive about it for the most part." A trace of sadness crept into his features and I found myself reaching for his hand. He grasped it as he looked towards the fireplace, jumping up to reach for the third carving. It spun easily in his hand and he pulled it forward.

"Damon?" I called. He shook his head gently and came towards me. In his hands were a few small items and he offered them to me. I took the envelope, little toy car, and the picture carefully waiting for Damon to sit down again.

"That was mine," he said softly gesturing towards the car. "Mom would put my little toys in there when I forgot them here and I could always look there first. I...I forgot about it," he said as he slid into the seat next to me. I handed it to him and he sat it down on the table next to his plate.

"Is this you?" I asked. In the picture was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen and in her arms was an infant. Eyes shut; he looked the picture of peace as she held him. Damon nodded and took the picture from me.

"She really was beautiful," he said simply. "I miss her every day."

"Yeah," I replied. He turned to look at me and smiled.

"I'm glad you're here," he said warmly. "It's better than doing this alone." Sometimes it was easy to forget he'd lost his father and his wife a few weeks ago. While he usually seemed put together and he had been having issues with his father, this was affecting him more than he'd like everyone to think.

"I lost my family and I know how you feel," I replied. It was a little lie since I'd never felt much for anyone but my Mom. Even in the end we'd had our differences but I'd grieved for her. He was quiet but he rubbed his hand over my knuckles. "So do you want to see what's in the envelope?"

"Sure," he replied. I ripped it open and out fell a key and a small note. I handed him the key and he pocketed it for the moment before taking the note. He read it silently and then handed it back to me.

_Damon,_

_This key will unlock the floor safe in the room. Inside you'll find my final gift to you. I love you so much and I'm sorry I won't get to see you grow up. You are the strongest little boy I've ever seen and remember you are a Salvatore. Salvatore's make their way in the world and they never look back. Be safe, be happy, and find love._

_Mom_

He was in my arms before I could process the words. He pressed his face against my neck and I felt a shutter rip through him. I held him fiercely as he processed a note he should have had years ago. I rubbed his back awkwardly not used to being someone who offered comfort. Minutes passed before he pulled back and gave me a smile.

"Are you all right?" I asked. He nodded and turned back to drink some of his wine.

"Thank you for not running, screaming from the room," he said. "I don't normally act like that."

"I've never needed to stay," I said quietly. Conversation dropped away and we ended up not working for the rest of the night. We sat together and just existed in silence. We could work tomorrow. It was hard to work when I felt so happy just being. We fell asleep that night, wrapped together on the couch, content with each other.

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That morning it took me an hour to extricate myself from Damon's embrace. He woke up sleepily when I convinced him to either head for his room or to sleep in my bed. Either way I needed to accomplish some individual work. He stumbled towards my bed, crawling up to push his head under one of my pillows. God he was adorable.

We could get together later to discuss what I'd learned. I still wasn't sure about my growing relationship with Damon but I found how much I wanted to share anyway.

My first order of business was to find Stefan. If I wanted to build a timeline of Katherine's final hours in order to lead to Giuseppe's connection, then the last person to see her was a good place to start. I couldn't find him anywhere but Richard assured me he hadn't left the property. I waved away his offer of tea and headed for the Grounds. Something told me I would find him there.

I found him outside the gazebo, staring off into space as though it was everyday murders occurred so close to his life. He was silent, no longer seeming so unstable by muttering under his breath constantly. He was like a blank slate and it was a bit unnerving. The sunlight bounced off his blondish hair making him look so young. Another thing I noticed was the absolute similarities between his clothes now and those he wore nearly a week ago.

"Hello Stefan," I called as I approached. He looked up and for a split second he began to smile. Then as quickly as it began the smile disappeared and a mass of indifference emerged. He sat back against the bench and watched me with careful eyes.

There were many different ways to approach people. Some like a bit of small talk before getting to the heart of the matter. Others prefer immediate discussions. Some you have to coax and others spill their guts so easily. I wasn't sure of the correct process to get the answers I wanted out of Stefan. I had to hit the right one if I wanted the right answers.

What was it I wanted from Stefan? A confession would be nice but I doubted I would get one even if he had killed her. Giuseppe was another matter. I still wasn't entirely sure the two crimes were connected. It did seem awfully coincidental Giuseppe used her death to predict his own. Surely they had to be connected, right? But how? What could someone possibly gain from the deaths of Katherine AND Giuseppe?

"Hello Elena," Stefan finally said once I was standing in front of him. There was no smile or familiar hint of amusement. Damon and Stefan were two very different people which was very good for me. Damon affected me profoundly and it wouldn't be a good thing if his brother could as well. It was one thing for one man to make my blood boil but it was an entirely different thing if his brother could as well.

"Do you mind if we have a little chat?" I asked. He shrugged with no comment. There was more than enough room on the bench but I preferred to face the person I was interrogating. That's what it was after all. If I couldn't see their eyes then what good was the exercise? Often I could pinpoint guilt within seconds of a question being asked.

"I don't see why not," he replied simply. I couldn't put my finger on it but I found him utterly creepy. I processed it for a minute but nothing came to mind. He reminded me of a serial killer I'd once had the pleasure of interrogating. It had been something I'd never forget.

"You want to tell me why you went to see Katherine the day she died?" I asked casually. There was no response. I watched him carefully but there wasn't even a fraction of movement in his eyes. It was like he was devoid of emotion. It was disturbing.

"I'd rather not," he replied simply. He held my gaze but there was no familiar look of defiance or amusement. It was unsettling to the point that my hand slid to the knife concealed in my jacket. The blade was sharper than most but compact enough to fit into my hand-made sheath. I hadn't been carrying it but something about Bonnie's predictions had me worried. She seemed incredibly upset and it concerned me enough to start carrying my weapons.

"Hmm...how interesting," I said.

"What's interesting?" He asked softly. His eyes held mine in an unshakable grip but I smirked in response.

"Do you have sociopathic tendencies?" I asked suddenly. Oddly enough there was absolutely no indication he'd heard me. There was no surprise, no concern, no amusement, nothing. He was completely devoid of emotion.

"Is that a bad thing?" He asked.

"Did you push Katherine off the balcony and watch her die?" I asked. His breathing picked up for a second before he lunged at me. My knife slid out of the sheath quickly and I sliced at him. He was like a bear or a lion since you know, he kind of roared. The knife sliced his stomach and he fell back onto the grass, moaning.

"Shit!" he yelled as he writhed on the floor. I'll admit there was some blood but...come on! Well at least he wasn't acting like a robot any more. That was a definite improvement.

"It's a flesh wound! Stop being such a baby," I sighed. I hated when men whined and found it so much more attractive when a man worked through the pain. I kneeled down beside him and prodded the small cut.

"What the hell was that for?" he screeched. I helped him up onto the bench and slid my blade to the ground, holding my hands up in an apologetic motion. Maybe I had overreacted but usually that little overreaction saved my life.

"Lift your shirt," I said with a roll of my eyes. I didn't have patience for nursing people and usually I wasn't a nurturer. I guess if you cut a man then you should at least check the damage. I lifted his shirt gently and he hissed when the fabric slipped over the cut. I gasped audibly when I noticed the level of damage on his stomach.

"Two broken ribs," he replied.

"What the hell happened?" I gasped.

"A run in with Klaus," he answered. My fingers traced over the purplish bruises, stroking over the bruises shaped like knuckles. He groaned when I prodded the darkest bruise. "I owed him money and he thought I was spending my money in an...unacceptable fashion."

"Stefan why don't you press charges?" I asked. I had to ask. Why do people never press charges?

"Trust me, they'll hurt you. This is nothing! They killed her because of me!" he cried. My eyes shot to his and I saw the tears in his eyes. "They hurt her."

"Who? Katherine?" I asked, surprised by his statement.

"They knew she meant so much to me and they took her. There's nothing I can do. I can't...I can't bring her back," he whispered. For the second time in twenty-four hours I found myself holding one of the Salvatore brothers. He bawled against me as he cried out his frustrations and inner turmoil. He blamed himself for Katherine's death and I had to wonder if maybe he was to blame.

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"I'm sorry I cried all over you," Stefan finally said. It had taken him a long time but he'd finally calmed down enough to lean back against the bench. I didn't say much during the time feeling unease growing by his embrace. I didn't like being thrust into this role but what was I going to do?

"It's okay I guess. I'm getting used to it," I replied.

"You know, you are nothing like Katherine," he said quietly. I'd been hearing it a lot lately and while I had thought I'd prefer to hear it, it wasn't having that effect. I think I wanted to know there were some similarities but so far other than looks, no one said anything like that.

"Yeah. I'm nothing like her," I commented.

"It's good though. I was in love with her and its nice not to have to wonder if you'll have that same effect," he replied. He turned to look at me and smiled. "You know Damon is falling for you."

"That's what he told me," I replied. I was staring intently at the back patio where Ric and Isobel were having lunch. He reached out and touched my knee gently and I turned to face him. He still looked boyishly young but now there was a little Salvatore charm.

"Damon loves instantly," he began. "He knows immediately and he's rarely wrong. Don't hurt him okay. He's a great guy but he's been dealt a pretty nasty hand over the years. Katherine sort of messed him up."

"Because she didn't love him?" I asked. I was getting these glimpses of my sister and I really wanted to know her. Even though nothing could ever come of it, I would at least know who she was as a person. So far she wasn't all that great.

"Katherine was looking for a solution and saw Damon as that. They weren't happy with each other but her betrayal screwed him up for a long time. She stayed because he wouldn't let her out of the marriage. They committed and that was it. He took his vows to heart," Stefan explained softly. "He's fiercely loyal even when he's unhappy."

"You loved her?" I asked. I didn't want to analyze these new revelations concerning Damon at the moment. It was dangerous for me to consider how amazing this beautiful man really was. If he was that great and I fell for him...what if he was involved?

"I had a crush on her since I knew what a crush was. We didn't start seeing each other until 18 months ago but I've been in love with her since before Damon brought her home," he explained.

"How long had you been sleeping with her?" I asked. I had to know. How long could Damon have known and reacted?

"Six months. It wasn't planned usually since it was hard for us to meet up but we found stolen moments together," he answered. "Look you can't tell Damon. I don't think he knew and we've had enough problems."

"I'm not making any promises," I said simply. "You didn't answer my first few questions."

"I promise I will but not today. It's too soon and I'm still mourning," he said. I nodded. A day or two wouldn't make too much of a difference. I stood up and moved forward to glance back up at the house. Was Damon still sleeping? Was it too soon to join him?

"All right," I finally conceded. "I won't tell Damon for now but if he asks, I won't lie for you."

"That's fair," he said. "You should sharpen that knife though. I've felt worse." I smiled at that but I didn't turn back to face him. I'd rather seem tough than let him see me laughing. It didn't hurt he had a sense of humor though.

"I'll be speaking to you later Stefan," I said.

"Hey, Elena!" he called. I turned to face him and noticed his serious expression. "Don't hurt my brother okay? I love him and he deserves the best."

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So there you have it. Damon's not all suave and mysterious and Stefan's a punching bag for the Trudeaus. Not only that but he was in love with his brother's wife! Elena is beginning to fall for Damon but she has some serious trust issues which will need to be addressed in the long run. We still have Giuseppe's note and Bonnie's prediction to deal with soon.

Who will die? Who will reveal more secrets? Why the hell doesn't Elena just let Damon have her and show off his amazing endowment?

I've finally caught up on review replies and I'd love to have some more to work on. Please leave me some amazing feedback!

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	9. The Enforcer

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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"Dammit!" I screeched. Why could nothing be easy or straight-forward when murder was concerned? I threw the pen across the room and sighed loudly. I put my head in my hands and screamed into them. Immediately I felt two hands slide over my shoulders soothingly. I sighed loudly before leaning back to look up into Damon's eyes. They were cautiously amused and I felt the anger dissipating. The man could make my insides melt but he had an oddly calming quality.

"What is it?" he asked softly. I sighed again before closing my eyes and willing the information to just come to me. I felt Damon slide down beside me until he was kneeling. I slid my hand over his shoulder until it rested against his cheek. His one hand rested on my thigh as I tried to calm my anger.

"There's no money trail," I said quietly. "Nothing."

"There has to be something," he replied, clearly surprised. He reached for the stack of papers and started scanning the private accounts. There was nothing in the joint account but that was expected. He would have known if something was missing there or...added.

"There's nothing. It's all expected deposits and withdrawals," I explained. "Katherine deposited the amount of money you gave her every week and then only withdrew money for normal expenditures. There are absolutely no red flags!"

Damon had been incredibly useful so far when it came to Katherine's murder investigation. One night after a heavy make-out session I'd requested financial records and he'd delivered. I'd gotten his financials and hers from the past two years. Apparently Salvatore money amounted to overnight delivery. Go figure.

"How can there be no trail at all?" I asked. "Usually they slip up at least once because they need to pay off a credit card or something. It's unusual for it to be so perfect."

"It has to be somewhere," Damon murmured as he poured over the sheets. I paused in my frustrations to stare at Damon. He was biting his lower lip as he tried to find something to make the case easier. He was looking for it so intently and I couldn't help but smile at his intensity.

"I guess the money was paid in cash," I replied. He didn't respond until I reached out to run my fingers through his hair. He turned to look up at me and I smiled shyly. He grinned before pulling me down for a kiss. His lips were soft and he tasted like coffee...mmm coffee. His fingers tangled in my hair as the papers fluttered to the floor. Screw work!

"Mmm...you taste like strawberries," he whispered. "You should eat those every morning." I smiled at him when he pulled back and he smirked. "Mmm...good enough to eat."

"Not now," I replied. "I'm working."

"So who are you interviewing today?" he asked finally. After two weeks it became clear he couldn't stop me from going so he tried to distract me for as long as possible. He had some serious protective, control issues.

"Isobel and if there is enough time then I'll try to catch up with Tyler," I answered. They had been hard to pin down but luckily Caroline found out Isobel had an appointment at the local nail salon. An hour of captive audience made my investigator senses tingle in pleasure. It was like interviewing prisoners!

"She's a bitch," he said. He chuckled a little before gathering up the papers and handing them up to me. "She'll lie."

"Well that's more fun for me," I replied as I stood and headed for the couch. I lifted my leather jacket and slid it on. He'd ripped it off the night before tugging me into bed with him. He had been quite persuasive when his tongue traced over my belly but I'd persevered. No sex...absolutely no sex. Not yet anyway.

"Be careful please," he said. I turned to face him and he smiled. "Please Elena."

"I'll do my best," I replied. "Will you keep my bed warm?"

"Of course," he answered. It was odd but honestly he seemed to never leave my room. No matter what time I came home or snuck in to grab something, he was oddly there. He would be watching TV or working on his laptop but he was always there. It was strange but I loved it. It seemed domestic and so completely normal. It was sort of creepy though too.

"I'm meeting Caroline for dinner. Can you handle yourself tonight?" I asked as I opened the door. He nodded and I waved goodbye. For some reason I had visions of white picket fences and porch swings. What the fuck was that?

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"What the hell are you doing here?" Isobel screeched. The workers looked uneasy but didn't move. They were in the middle of doing her hands and I sat down at the station next to her. She glared at me as one of the workers flew over to start on me.

"Mr. Salvatore gave us instructions," she murmured softly. I paused and stared at her for a minute. Damon called? It was like him to plan an impromptu spa day when I was in the middle of a murder investigation. Sigh...

"Whatever," I mumbled. She took my hands softly and began to work at them, mumbling about my poor nail health. What the hell did it matter if I wore nail polish? It wasn't going to save my life or anything.

"What do you want Elena?" Isobel asked finally. I glanced over as the employee began smearing Isobel's nails with blood red nail polish. She seemed to be working intently but I knew I had to watch what I said. I didn't want information leaking out too quickly.

"I want to know why you went to visit Katherine on the day she died," I replied casually. She stiffened but turned back to having her nails done. I took in her profile and noticed she was incredibly beautiful. She looked a little ragged from the recent events but she was still a striking beauty. I could understand how easy it would be for her to have affairs. She could definitely tempt a variety of men.

"Who says I saw Katherine?" she asked softly.

"The doorman and the sign-in log," I replied. I glanced down in surprise when I noticed the pale pink being painted on my nails. I had expected red or something but I kind of liked this color. She looked up at me for approval and I nodded. "Thanks...Vicki?"

"No problem Miss Gilbert," she replied.

"So Isobel, why did you go to see Katherine?"

"We were going to have lunch together," she said quickly. My eyes narrowed before zeroing in on the lie. She was really too easy to read. Her entire demeanor shifted from cool and collected to worried.

"No you weren't. You argued with her about money which she didn't seem to have? Care to explain?" I asked before glancing down. She was applying some sort of red on top of the pink to create a fiery pink. Were those rhinestones next to the bottle? Shit.

"You need to stop digging!" she finally said. I glanced down at her hand which was now clutching my arm tightly. "Please!"

The fear was palpable and I waved off Vicki. "Take a five," I told her. She nodded before making herself scarce. I turned back to Isobel and waved off her manicurist. "What are you afraid of?"

"Look Katherine was in deep shit and I was trying to help her out of it," Isobel said quietly. "Seriously stay out of it!"

"Who are you afraid of?" I asked again. She glanced to the doorway as if plotting her escape. She turned back to me quickly and grasped my arm again.

"Tomorrow night by Cecile's shrine," she said quickly. "I'll bring what I have. Ric doesn't know what she was in to but I don't want the proof in my hands."

"Drugs?" I asked softly. The color drained out of her face before she glanced out the window again. She shuddered when the door jangled and Klaus came strolling in. He looked out of place in the nail salon but he commanded the room. He glanced at the four workers and made a gesture that clearly meant, 'get the hell out'.

"Why Izzy..." he said huskily. "You're late for our lunch meeting." He clapped his hands on her shoulders harshly. She stiffened completely as he tilted her head up to kiss her chastely. Her eyes drifted shut but his eyes trained on mine. He winked and I felt a chill roll down my back. I didn't like this man. He made me uneasy.

He leaned down and whispered something into her ear. All color drained from her face and she muttered her apologies. She stood mechanically and picked up her purse. As she went to leave he slapped her ass. She mumbled a 'thank you Klaus' before stumbling out into the street, leaving me alone with a potential maniac.

"Well hello there Elena," he purred. "May I call you Elena? I feel like I know you...intimately." He moved to stand behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. The grasp was firm and I knew I'd have difficulty getting out of it. I placed my hands on the counter and waited. Let him talk and maybe I'd get an opening.

"I prefer Miss Gilbert," I replied bitingly.

"Well I prefer Elena," he replied. His right hand slid around to grasp my neck as he forced my head up. "It took me three hours to break your sister's reservations. I wonder how quickly I can break yours."

My blood ran cold at that. What had he done to Katherine and when? What did he intend to do with me? I slid my hand to my pocket but he was there first. His hand clutched at the knife and ripped it out, impaling it in the table in front of me.

"Ah...ah...ah," he chided. "No knives."

"What do you want?" I asked as strongly as I could. His eyes narrowed and he laughed.

"Hmm...what do I want?" he asked as if considering it. "Katherine had something that belonged to me and I want back."

"I don't have anything of my sister's so you should go ask someone else," I replied. He glared down at me before grasping my neck, cutting off my air supply. I gurgled as he hauled me to the floor. He held me down as I tried to claw at him. He laughed as my nails scraped over his cheek. He'd had the sense to put himself between my legs making them completely useless.

"Now baby, you should learn to behave better," he purred as I struggled with him. "I want it back and you're going to get it for me."

"Ughnnn..." I groaned. He was starting to blur and I knew I only had a minute or so left before I fainted completely. God only knew what would happen then.

"I like a little fight in my women," he said huskily. His spare hand reached down to ghost over my breast. I groaned as my hands fell to the tiled floor. The last thing I heard was his chuckle.

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"Miss Gilbert, are you okay?" a voice asked worriedly. I groaned, opening my eyes slowly. Above me, Vicki was staring at me like I'd just made a miraculous recovery. I groaned and reached up to rub my neck softly. That bitch hurt!

"What happened?" I croaked. Vicki immediately grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to me quickly. I sipped it slowly and cried out in pain when I felt the bruising on my neck. Vicki was rubbing her hands worriedly and I glanced around. Klaus was gone but the salon was still empty. What the fuck had happened?

"I called the sheriff. He drove by with his lights on and Klaus took off," she replied. "He tries to avoid them as much as possible. Are you okay?" Vicki glanced around worriedly as I sat up.

"Damn, asshole," I muttered. Vicki helped me up and I stumbled back into the chair. Vicki sat across from me while I ripped my knife out of the table. She picked up the nail polish and gestured for my hand. Was she bonkers?

"It'll help you relax," she explained. I gave her my hand and she resumed the fiery pattern she was tracing onto each nail. I sighed while I massaged my neck with my other hand. What the hell was he looking for?

"I'd give it to him if I were you," Vicki offered lamely. "He usually gets what he wants and if he doesn't...well he hurts people."

"I'm not overly worried," I replied. "He caught me by surprise this time but he won't next time." She stared down at my nails intently while her brown hair fell across her face. She looked like she'd had personal experience with the bastard.

"Look, he's got the majority of people in town freaked out and most people won't come to your defense. Please try to be careful," she replied.

"What do you know about him?" I asked. The more I knew the better.

"I don't know anything other than he's an enforcer and his brother's Elijah," she replied. "He's very private."

"What about Katherine?"

"He's been obsessed with her for years. I don't know why but I think they might have hooked up in high school. He was really controlling," she said thoughtfully. "Look...I would try to stay away from him as much as possible. He's known to be abusive."

"He won't catch me by surprise again," I said firmly. We didn't say anything else while she finished my nails. I thanked her quietly before leaving. I had a lot to think about and a lot to worry about. Why did Klaus think I had something of Katherine's? -TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-TVD-

"So have you two fucked yet?" Caroline asked abruptly. I nearly spewed my beer across the table while she laughed. I wasn't really used to this girl talk thing but Caroline was determined. She dragged me out of my room and down to this rat-hole they call "The Grill". It was supposed to be some sort of local treasure where the majority of teens worked there at one time or another.

"No," I replied slowly. It wasn't for lack of trying. He was seduction defined and seemed determined to get me into bed. I rubbed my sore neck thoughtfully and prayed a bruise hadn't started to form.

That bitch still hurt! I rubbed it slowly but thankfully Caroline was oblivious. I was hoping to keep this under wraps because Damon would freak the hell out. I didn't need him hindering my movements and I knew he would try.

"Well what the hell are you waiting for? I need some vicarious living so get fucking!" Caroline screeched. A few families glared at us and I saw one mother reach out and clap her hands over her son's ears. Caroline was oblivious.

"Caroline!" I hissed. She glanced around and waved them off.

"Oh seriously? Their children are going to hear worse soon enough and they might as well get used to it," Caroline said. She ate a few fries while she stared me down. "God he hasn't even gotten into your pants has he?"

"No," I replied. "I'm not ready." I wasn't sure I could actually tumble into bed with Damon and be okay with my conscious. While I'd never felt safer and I seemed to trust him completely, my annoying conscious seemed to be whispering, 'could be a killer' or 'danger'. Either way I couldn't ignore the clenching my lower body went through when he touched me. I'd never wanted a man so badly.

"You are a super-hot private dick! If I was gay, I'd want you," she said exasperated. "Seriously put your gun away and spend some private time with HIS dick." I could feel myself blushing and I didn't like it. Caroline was much too forward and she unnerved me. She was a dominant personality but she just steamrolled you into something where I manipulated a bit more.

"Caroline!" I bit out. "Shut up please." She froze and blinked a few times before sitting back and lifting her beer to her lips. I was pleased to see a little bit of pink travel across her cheeks. She shook her blonde hair outwards before looking back at me with a small smirk.

"He slept with a lot of girls in high school and they told everyone about his...private dick," she said. "In fact I'm pretty sure he turned half the football team gay."

"Right!" I snorted.

"Seriously. They were blasting their way out of the closet," she said with a laugh. "Three girls lost their boyfriends the year Damon started having sex. They were so disappointed he didn't swing that way."

"Is he really that good?" I asked. He seemed incredibly confident in his abilities and my experience with men led me to believe they were usually horrible. Well that or so-so. Could Damon really be that amazing?

"Well I don't have personal experience but with the rumors going around, I would say he's good," Caroline replied.

"Who's good?" a voice asked. Both of our eyes shot up to greet our guest and of course it was Damon fucking Salvatore. How did he always seem to know where I was and I was talking about him? He slipped into the booth beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders pulling me in tight.

"By all means, join us," I said with a roll of my eyes. He leaned over and kissed my cheek before reaching up to stroke my other cheek.

"I planned on it," he replied softly. "Would you believe me if I said I missed you?" It was like we were alone as I held his gaze, my own fiery eyes softening. He could be really sweet sometimes and I couldn't stay frustrated with him.

His fingers tangled themselves in my hair as he pulled me a little closer. This wasn't normal. It couldn't be. This feeling of sitting at the top of the first hill of a roller-coaster couldn't last right? What if I took the plunge and we crashed or broke down? I wasn't accustomed to risking my heart.

"Damon," I whispered. The world fell away as he pushed me to him, ensnaring my lips in a vaguely inappropriate kiss. His eyes were shut and I couldn't help but allow mine to drift shut as well. He caused a tsunami of emotions to rocket through me and I let out a soft gasp. He swallowed my sound and grasped my face tightly.

"Well shit!" Caroline exclaimed. We broke apart and turned to face open-mouthed Caroline. I tried to separate us but Damon's hand tightened on me. I thought about hitting him but as if sensing my intention he grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers against mine.

"Tsk, tsk Caroline," Damon began. "Watch your language."

"Oh come on! You two practically went up in flames!" Caroline said, clearly amazed. I could feel the red creeping up my neck and Damon leaned towards me.

"I do love that color," he commented huskily. I shuddered at his tone. He would devour me; I was sure of it. I tried to concentrate on Caroline but his hand had let go of mine, tracing letters on my thigh.

"Should I leave?" she finally asked. As I found my voice to say, 'no', Damon replied with a vehement 'yes'.

"Actually," he started. "I think we should leave. We have some things to discuss about you and a knife." I held his gaze and nodded slightly. I was surprised Stefan had told him. "Oh he didn't. Ric let me know."

"I don't like people reporting on me," I replied testily. He chuckled, a warm sound that went straight to my lower belly.

"I don't either but I'm willing to take your wrath if it means you are looked after," he replied. "Elijah did threaten you."

"He did what?" Caroline exclaimed. "That bastard!" Damon explained the altercation while I stewed. Why wasn't I knocking him down a few pegs? Normally I couldn't shut up but here I was at a loss for words while Damon played the dominant male. Well it was better they discussed Elijah and not Klaus. I wasn't ready to share just yet…if ever.

"I want someone looking after her but she won't let me protect her," Damon explained. "She's been threatened, called a whore, and drawn my brother's blood since she got here. Clearly she needs a partner."

"I don't need a partner," I managed to bite out. Damon waved me off and continued talking to Caroline about my stubbornness. She nodded appropriately and I found myself cursing this small town. Why couldn't we have sat at a damn table so I could storm off appropriately? Why did we even come to this place when there was a perfectly good take-out place down the street? Wait, why DID we come here?

I glanced up suddenly and noticed Caroline and Damon, heads together as they discussed me. It had been her suggestion to come here where she immediately started asking me about Damon. He HAD shown up at the exact right moment. I glared at them before shoving at Damon. He wasn't expecting it and I had the satisfaction of watching him slide to the restaurant floor.

"Elena...why?" He asked, sputtering slightly. I grabbed my wallet and slid the money onto the table. I stood up, and turned towards Caroline.

"Next time, don't pretend you just missed this place," I said before stomping off. I didn't look back but I could imagine the look on her face. Surprise mixed with hurt. I was used to that look. I stomped outside, stuffing my wallet into my pocket. I tugged on the collar of my jacket and then took off. She drove but I wasn't about to wait around for a ride. I could walk the three miles since it wasn't like this town had a taxi service.

I was a block away when Damon slid out of the shadows. He had obviously run this far and he took a minute to breath heavily. I would have walked past him but he grasped me, pulling me into the shadows with him. I tried to fight him off but he pulled me to him, kissing me roughly until I swooned.

"I don't like it when you run from me," he whispered against my lips. I had no response as he kissed me again and again, his fingers trailing down to cup my ass. His erection was pressed firmly to my stomach and I moaned. He really was quite large. He groaned against me and pinned me against the fading brick wall.

"I'm not a damsel in distress Damon. I can handle myself," I murmured. He looked pained as he pulled me into a hug. I let him because he needed it and I found myself burying myself against him. It had been a horrible day and I could lose myself in his embrace. It was cathartic.

"I've promised to protect two people in my life," he whispered. "I failed them both." I pulled back from him to stare up at him in surprise. He seemed sad as he glanced towards the darkened street. Passing headlights lit up his face for a second and I saw the pained look. He was blaming himself for something.

"Who?" I asked softly.

"Stefan and Katherine," he replied. "I promised him when he was little but here he is getting beaten up by an enforcer. Katherine was during the early times. She was different then and I worried. Now she's gone."

"Do you...do you miss her?" I finally asked. He turned back to look at me and I lost my train of thought when I met his stormy eyes. I could stare at his eyes all day but he didn't seem to like the constant staring. He was amazingly confident but something about that level of intimacy bothered him.

"Not in the way you'd expect, I guess," he replied enigmatically. "She was a part of my life for three years. We weren't in love but she was there all the time. I guess I miss knowing that aspect of my life. My identity was based in her. I was Katherine's husband."

"But was she Damon's wife?" I asked.

"No...no she was always Katherine, just Katherine," he replied softly. "I've never thought about it before now."

"I like you being you," I answered truthfully. "I didn't know you then but I like you now. You shouldn't change." His eyes widened and then he smiled a broad, boyish smile. He kissed my cheek softly before tucking my arm around his. Moments later we were walking towards the Manor, arm and arm but silent.

"Please be careful," he finally said. "I care very deeply about you and I couldn't stand to lose anyone else."

"I am licensed to carry a gun baby," I replied. He stopped suddenly and I nearly slid to the ground when my legs kept going. He turned and grasped my hips softly, splaying his fingers around me.

"I like that," he said with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"What my gun-toting abilities?"

"No. You called me 'baby' and I like it," he replied. My eyes widened at his admission. "I want to paint you tonight."

"What?" I asked. He tucked me against him and began marching towards the Manor. He didn't reply as he led me, eyes forward.

"Naked. I want to paint you naked," he said softly. I froze and found myself unable to go one step forward. Before I could say anything he hoisted me into his arms. I sputtered as he strode purposefully towards the driveway.

"N...naked?" I finally whispered. He nodded but didn't reply. I tried to squirm out of his arms but he finally just threw me over his shoulder. I hung there for a moment trying to understand his moods. He was like a storm, sometimes calm and others raging. It was maddening but I found myself giddy. Forget murder tonight.

"Yes, spread out on my bed, naked and most definitely wanting," He said darkly. "Yes...wanting will show up beautifully on canvas."

"Shit!" I replied.

"Tonight you'll inspire me, my little fiery muse."

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Sorry for the delay but I ended up deleting 1200 words the other night. It took me awhile to decide how to fix it. So how about Klaus? And what does Isobel know?

I'm still behind on review replies and I'm sorry. I hope to hear from you all anyway! I love getting reviews.

Follow me at trustelenagilbert (dot) blogspot (dot) com

Tsukikomew (dot) blogspot (dot) com

Thanks for reading!


	10. The Flame

This chapter contains smutty situations and some profanity. All warnings apply.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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I felt like I was spontaneously combusting. The heat was unbearable. The slow tendrils of pleasure crept up and over my skin until I cried out in longing. Damon's fingers massaged my skin as we moved against each other, hip to hip, lips to lips. His fingers had crept up under my shirt until he unhooked my bra in one movement. He shoved me against the wall, a painting clattering against the surface. His body was strong, vibrating with need as he held me to him. A gasp, a moan, a plea and I urged him onward. I'd never wanted a man like this before.

His eyes were closed in pure agony as if he was seeking absolution within my embrace. His fingers clutched needily at me and I found him down in my arms, his lips fusing to my neck. I groaned he lifted me, easing my legs around his hips. I hissed when I felt his prominent erection against me which pressed intimately against the one spot I needed him most. An ache was growing, pulsing inside me and I knew what I wanted more than anything.

I felt wetness on my neck and my eyes shot open. Tears? My fingers tangled into his hair as I held him. He made a sound low in his throat before carrying me to his bedroom door. His hand left my hips to reach into his pocket as he fumbled with one key. The silver key was on one chain, long enough to wear as a necklace. He thrust the key into the lock as he thrust himself against me. I moaned loudly as a distinctive click resounded from the lock.

He panted against my neck as he fumbled with the door knob. I couldn't help but turn to look at his room. I hadn't been invited into his rooms over the past few weeks as he seemingly found my bed more comfortable. He kissed my neck softly as I glanced around the room, still in his embrace.

It was light and airy as he swept me towards the large, dominating four poster bed. This was a room for love-making. Dark woods and luxurious sheets called to passion while the windows allowed moonlight to cascade through the room. Pillows rose on the bed to cushion any position any pair of lovers could wish. I froze when my eyes fell on the only adornment on the walls. One canvas and only one hung directly across from the bed.

He allowed me to slip to the floor in front of him as I wandered towards the painting. My fingers reached up before I turned to look back at him. He nodded in permission as my fingers traced the lines of paint. In the bottom corner there was a signature and I traced the "D.S" lovingly. Below was a date, small and barely noticeable. I gasped at the date and turned to face him.

"I...is this..." I stuttered. His eyes met mine, blazing in answer. He stared at me intently as he moved towards me, holding me in an unshakeable look. His fingers came up to grasp my chin tightly as he nodded quickly. I tried to turn to look back at the painting but he stopped me.

"Do you want to know the title?" he asked softly. I blinked at his question as he moved against me. I could still feel his erection against my hip as he kissed my temple softly. My eyes drifted shut as the picture became ingrained in my mind. A woman in a meadow, sunkissed and olive-skinned, held a ball of fire in her hands.

"I...I don't understand," I replied softly.

"Living Flame is the title," he whispered. "You...make me burn." His words were hushed as he kissed me softly. This time his eyes remained open as his fingers reached for the hem of my shirt. He lifted until he had to pull back from me, lifting it over my head until I was standing there in my bra, before his painting of me.

"I remember the first night when I came into your room, your breasts bare and ready for me," he whispered huskily. "I've dreamt of them since wishing you would quiver when I touched you. I have to have you, understand?"

"I'll never understand Damon," I replied honestly. "Why me?" He looked genuinely surprised by my question as he reached up to remove the bra hanging loosely from my arms. His hands reached up to cup my breasts. I cried out when his warm hands finally closed over me softly. He was so gentle as he held me, no words leaving his lips as he considered how to answer.

"You are everything I wanted when I thought I'd found it," he whispered. "Strength, honor, beauty, persistent, warmth..." he replied softly. "I know it's soon, too soon for many people but I want this with you."

"Damon," I murmured as his fingers slid to the button of my jeans. The sound of the zipper rang through the silence as he pressed the fabric down. My jeans fell to the floor with a thud and I stood before him in cotton underwear and nothing else. His palms rested on my hips as he stared at me. His blue eyes were alive with desire as he tugged me against him.

"I believe I said naked," he whispered as he pushed my underwear down, over my hips. The cotton slid down my thighs, my knees, my ankles until it rested in the same pile as my jeans. He grasped me quickly, hauling me up into his arms as he carried me towards the bed. I wrapped my arms around him in silence as he moved. The silk was decadent as he slid me to the bed, pulling back to stare down at me.

"Damon," I whispered as I tried to pull him towards me. He refused, stepping out of my embrace. He watched me softly as his eyes trailed over my body, making me feel like some great treasure. I'd never felt beautiful, attractive sure, but never beautiful. He made me feel like perfection with one look, one touch. With one finger, he slid it down my body from my forehead, down over my breasts circling each nipple teasingly, until he rested it on my belly button.

He paused for a second as his eyes darted to mine, asking permission. I nodded slowly until his fingers slid down over my hip. His eyes held mine as he parted my thighs gently, easing them apart until I was nearly spread-eagled. The same finger moved to the top of my sex with a soft, gentle caress. His eyes locked to mine and I panted as the single digit slid lower to rub against my inflamed desires.

My hips arched slightly as he watched me through hooded eyes. His finger teased for only a moment before moving a little lower, slipping against me effortlessly. I gasped when he slid inside for a second but before I could get used to the slight feeling of fullness, he pulled back from me with a smile.

My heart pounded as his fingers dipped lower still until the same one could trail over my ankle and toes. He lifted the finger to his lips and kissed it chastely. Never before had I felt so needy or aroused. He could make me burn with such small touches and I wasn't sure whether to run or beg for more. He slid away from me and I pushed myself up on my elbows. He moved surely around the room until he lifted a drawing pad and a small case. He smiled at me as he drug a stool towards the bed.

"Ah ah," he chastised, "Did I say you could move?"

"I..." I stumbled over my thoughts. Something struck me as I slid back against the pillows, looking over at him. I was out of my fucking league.

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"So...can I move yet?" I asked after an hour of lying in the position he'd arranged me. I rested among the pillows like I was seeking a man's touch. My breasts were arched upwards and my legs sprawled over pillows in a welcoming fashion. He kept me at the brink of excitement throughout the past hour and a half.

Every time I felt relaxed his fingers would unerringly delve against me or inside me. His fingers stroked gently, waiting until I was at the peak of frustration before retreating to continue his work. He would smile knowingly when I groaned, offering to restrain me if I couldn't hold my position. When I laughed he went to his closet for four silk ties. For a while he draped them over my heated skin, dragging them across my puckered nipples and trembling thighs.

"Hmm?" He asked as he glanced up at me once more. He smirked gently as he slid his sketch pad to the night table and lifted a small brush from his art kit. It looked new and soft as he held it before me. His eyes blazed as he brushed one of my nipples with the bristles. I cried out at the sensation, soft yet teasing.

"Damon!" I cried as he drug it down between my parted thighs. The sensation was indescribable as he ran it up and down as my thighs fell further apart. My lips parted in a mirror of my body. He slid to the bed beside me wrapping one arm around my shoulders while the other continued to play.

"When we do make love," he began huskily, "I won't have the control to capture the moment but here with you now, looking at me like this, I can't help but want to capture every movement you make." His lips were close to mine and our breath mingled deliciously. I could smell the bourbon he'd sipped between the second and third drawings. The brush dropped from his fingers as they slid where the brush had been.

I felt his bare chest as he slid over me until he was nestled against me. My fingers rose to stroke his chest gently and I watched in pleasure as his lips parted. I giggled as he smiled at me, leaning closer to kiss me passionately. His tongue slipped between my lips as his fingers slid inside me, stroking with intent.

I couldn't close my eyes as we kissed and for a moment I understood what he meant. I was on fire and I felt like crying from the sheer agony of the feeling. Was this love? Was this feeling what he meant? He kissed my shoulders and I stared off at the painting of the "Living Flame" as I strove for that ending he was driving me towards. In the moonlight the painting came alive and the fire seemed real in her hands.

I gasped once, pressing my hips upwards as I tumbled over the edge, sobbing his name. He tugged me into his arms and I rained kisses on his chest as he whispered sweet words against my hair. I was a sweaty mess, driven to the brink of need and then release. He was a living flame, not me. He burned me and I knew it would never be enough. I could never have enough of him.

I pushed him to the bed and slid over him, sinking down over his jeans as he stared up at me. Still half-clothed, I reached down to touch his belt buckle. He smiled up at me and I giggled playfully. It was strange to be in bed, naked and satisfied while he was still half-dressed and clearly in need.

I leaned down to kiss him softly when his phone rang loudly. We both turned to stare at the phone and clock respectively. It was four in the morning. He groaned and reached over for it before answering the call.

"Ric you better be fucking dying because I am in the middle of something important," he growled as his fingers trailed down my body. His fingers stilled between my thighs as he swore into the phone. "When? Is she okay?"

"Damon?" I asked when he sat up suddenly. He slid me to the bed beside him as he reached for his discarded shirt. I stared at him as he continued making plans, disappearing into his closet. He came out with a bag and sat there stunned as he handed me the bag. I reached in and pulled out a pair of black jeans and one of his shirts. I didn't want to think about the jeans and their previous owner.

"Yes...yes. Elena will come as well," he said softly. He slid the phone in his pocket and pulled me to him. The mattress was soft beneath my knees as he kissed me softly. He was apologetic as he reached for the shirt and tugged it over my naked body. His hands rested on my hips gently as he seemed to wrestle with something.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Isobel...she hadn't come home when Ric went looking for her. He thought maybe she was with one of her...lovers," Damon replied.

"She wasn't?" I asked. He shook his head as he left to retrieve my underwear. He helped me to my feet as I slid into the cotton panties, tugging the black jeans up over my hips. They were a little tight but they'd do in an emergency.

"No. He found her by the garage," he began. "She's been beaten and...raped."

"What?" I screeched as I stared up at him in horror. "Do they know who?"

"No but Ric suspects," he replied softly. "She'll be okay physically but she's still unconscious. Ric is beside himself and I promised to go. Will you go with me?"

"Of course," I replied. I moved towards my pile of clothes and retrieved my phone, wallet and keys and turned to find him holding a pair of sandals. I slipped into them quickly and we hurried into the hallway. He locked the door quickly and then wrapped his arms around me tightly.

"Thank you for coming," he whispered softly. I closed my eyes for a second and nodded. He kissed me quickly and then we were off.

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She looked terrible. Damon and Ric were arguing with the doctor about a variety of things while I watched over Isobel. She was bruised and deathly pale and she was limp. I took the seat near her bed and watched her quietly. I detested hospitals and I was at a lost. What should I do exactly? Should I hold her hand or talk to her? Should I attempt to read her chart? Should I go find Damon?

"Kat?" Isobel croaked. I turned to face her again and she stared up at me as best she could. "Kat, you need to get out of here."

"Isobel, I'm not...I..." I said softly. I tried to head for the door but her hand shot out and grasped my arm tightly.

"Kat you need to go," she repeated. "He'll kill you. I thought he had..."

"Isobel lay down!" I commanded as she tried to sit up. I watched her groan as she slumped back to the bed. She still had a death grip on my wrist and I cried out when she tugged it closer.

"Kat, Klaus will kill you," she cried. "You have to tell Damon. Damon will know what to do. He always knows what to do." She groaned again as she closed her eyes. They shot open again, fearful. "Don't go anywhere alone. Promise me!"

"Isobel I'm not Katherine," I said. "Please, let me get a doctor."

"Promise Me!" she demanded. "He wants you for himself. He...told me when he...he wants you Kat...I mean Le...na." When I realized she was saying my name I tried to get her to say more but she'd fallen unconscious again. Her hand slipped from my wrist and I massaged the sore skin.

"Hello, Miss Gilbert," a doctor said as he entered the room with Damon and Ric. He moved to look at the chart before he moved to look at the various monitors.

"Hello Doctor..."

"Bennett," Damon supplied. I turned in surprise to stare at the man. I could see the resemblance between him and Bonnie and I smiled a little. I kind of missed her candor.

"Bennett," I finished. "Isobel woke up. She thought I was Katherine."

"Katherine," Ric asked softly as he moved to sit by Isobel's bedside. "What did she say?"

"She told me Klaus had or wanted...I don't know exactly," I replied. Damon's eyes narrowed at my obvious lie and he moved towards me. He grasped my chin and lifted until my neck was extended.

"What the hell is this?" He roared. I couldn't move my head as his fingers slid down my neck. "Dr. Bennett, she has bruises on her neck. Would you look at them for me?" I attempted to pull back but he held me tightly and while his hands were gentle I recoiled from his anger.

Dr. Bennett moved in front of me quickly and tilted my head back as Damon had done. His fingers were cold and I hissed from the chill. Damon moved to the other side of Isobel's bed, pacing back and forth as Dr. Bennett examined my neck.

"These are choke marks," he said softly. "Who did this to you Miss Gilbert?"

"I'd rather not say," I replied when Damon glared at me. Dr. Bennett let my chin go and I turned away from the people in the room. Damon slid behind me within moments as Dr. Bennett started talking to Ric about Isobel's condition and future steps.

"Why didn't you tell me, he hurt you?" Damon whispered furiously. I shook my head slightly as his arms slid around my waist. "How could you keep this from me?"

"You're too protective," I replied. "I can't do my job when you keep me on a short leash."

"No more," he said softly. "You don't do this alone any more Elena. Klaus is dangerous and you see what he did to Isobel. What if it was you?"

"I can handle myself Damon," I replied. "Why are you so mad at me?"

"I'm mad at you because I love you," he replied softly.

"Maybe...maybe that's the problem?" I said softly. He stiffened.

"I'm in the way aren't I?" He asked softly. He moved to step away from me but I spun in his arms and wrapped my arms around him tightly. He looked past me as I tangled my fingers in his hair and tugged him down for a kiss.

"I've never felt this way before," I murmured. "I don't know how to be with someone like this. I...I'll try."

"You'll try?" He asked. I nodded and he smiled boyishly. He kissed me then, softly but full of love.

"Okay so if you two are done necking or whatever, could we focus on my unconscious wife?" Ric asked. We turned to him embarrassed and Damon quickly moved to clasp a hand on Ric's shoulder. I stood awkwardly at the bottom of the bed and watched as Ric broke down over his wife's sleeping body. Damon leaned down and hugged his uncle, consoling him as much as possible.

I couldn't help but wonder throughout all of this if maybe, just maybe this was what Giuseppe wanted to happen? Had he brought me here to...?

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The days passed as Isobel began her slow recovery. Klaus and Elijah had seemingly disappeared from town but the Sheriff had been working non-stop to find them. Isobel didn't remember her bedside confessions or her actual attack. Ric was pleased when she seemed apologetic about things and begged him to stay. Oddly enough she was only comfortable when Ric was with her and she went home begging her husband to forgive her for some of her transgressions.

He'd smiled at her and then swept her into his arms before disappearing into the Manor. We hadn't followed but Damon assured me much later they'd been intimate for the first time in a very long time. We, however, had not found ourselves any closer to mind-blowing sex. It was disappointing to say the least.

Damon refused to leave my side for the most part but I'd taken to sneaking out when he was in the shower. Usually I got back inside the Manor before he noticed but occasionally he found me sneaking back in. Today he'd finally let me out while he worked or something. I was relishing the freedom since he'd only asked me to call him in a few hours.

I knew I didn't need to really ask permission to leave but something about his demeanor made me want to humor him for the time being. He was incredibly happy when I played along with his craziness. We hadn't been back to his room either and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. While I loved him in my bed, I sometimes longed for the intimacy we experienced in his.

Either way I couldn't help but continue thinking about the case. Isobel had been sure of Klaus's involvement in Katherine's death but when pressed she denied that knowledge. She claimed to not remember our conversation in the nail salon but I figured I would understand eventually. I moved towards investigating Giuseppe's final days and the connections between the two deaths. One thing became clear and I realized I needed to visit a small shop in town.

The bell dinged over the door as I swept into the small shop. The smell of jasmine erupted around me and I sighed at the familiar smell. There was something about this place that relaxed me immediately. Bonnie looked up from behind the counter and smiled.

"I was expecting you Elena," she said softly. Her voice seemed melodic and I found myself entranced. She was bewitching in a way. She gestured me towards the back room again and when we entered it, I found the table set for two. She poured a cup of tea quickly and I took up my old spot.

"Were you?" I finally asked as she sipped her own cup of tea. She smiled again and handed me a slip of paper. I glanced down at it for a moment and smiled. It was a picture of Damon when he was younger. I traced his features for a second before my eyes darted up to meet hers.

"He's very happy," she said knowingly. "He's quite in love with you."

"I...he says that too," I replied. She smiled in response.

"You don't believe him," she said factually. "Giuseppe thought he might."

"Giuseppe?" I asked.

"Oh he spoke of you after that trip to New York State. He was convinced you needed to come here and...fix things," Bonnie said softly. She smiled as she stirred her tea. "Have you considered the case anymore?"

"Yes, in fact, I know my next move," I replied.

"And that would be?" she asked.

"I need to find Jenna Sommers. Do you know where I can find her?"

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So off to meet Jenna huh? I know this was a more Delena-centric chapter but the bedroom scene just came to me suddenly. Isobel's attack will come up again later as we delve into some more connections. Also, a Halloween bash is on the horizon.

I always disliked the scene in "Dangerous Liaisons" this year when Damon confesses his love and she kind of blows him off/regrets it. I figured we'd give them a proper ending with those lines. I hope you all approve.

I'm still working on review replies and TBL ch 14 (CAN YOU BELIVE THAT?) so please bear with me.

Please leave me some feedback because I love it so. Side note: I'm in the market for a TBL banner. Please contact me if interested. I write one-shots as payment. Details are at my blog!

Follow me at tsukikomew (dot) blogspot (dot) com

Trustelenagilbert (dot) blogspot (dot) com


	11. The Proposition

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Thanks to the wonderful discussions on the DE forums! I love debating character development.

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Bonnie had seemed surprised by my sudden interest in the local real estate agent who had expressed such an interest in the Salvatore Manor. Bonnie had replied with an answer and a few directions which had deposited me outside a formidable looking town home. It was immaculate yet comfortable. Clearly Jenna was trying for moderate. It wasn't cold yet it didn't hold any particular warmth.

The doorbell rang a few times while I stood on her stoop. I probably should have called since it was possible she was out. It was the middle of the day and she might have been showing houses. I sighed when the door wasn't answered, headed back to the car, and sat down with a book borrowed from Damon's bedside.

That had been surprising to say the least. Damon liked to read and it seemed since I'd come to Mystic Falls, he'd read about fifteen books. I guess when you got to be king of the castle; you could afford to laze about. Well or he spent a ridiculous amount of time playing with seduction. The bastard was really good at it too!

My phone rang and I glanced down at the screen expecting to see the lazy bastard's number but no, of course not. It was Jeremy...again. He was being oddly quiet since he'd called during one of Damon's more purposeful seductions. Jeremy was decidedly against my "fraternizing with the enemy" tactics. I couldn't bring myself to tell him I wasn't using my feminine wiles but just feeling something new.

"What's up Officer?" I said wearily into the phone. I heard Jeremy's chuckle and then Anna telling him to tell me she said 'hi'.

"Anna says 'hi' and also I do too!" He replied. "I was hoping to catch you before you did anything stupid like...picking a fight with a thug."

"Look I only did that once and I wasn't expecting him to throw me through a window," I replied while rolling my eyes. "The bastard did five years for that one."

"Yes, and he deserved every second of it," Jeremy replied. "Well anyway I got those fingerprint results in. You were right."

"I figured as much," I replied. "Where were they?"

"We got two partials on the balcony railing, one on the bedpost, and one on a bottle of scotch at the bar," Jeremy replied in a rush. I smiled. I had expected the NYPD had missed some prints. It wasn't their fault since they had ruled it accidental from the get-go. Why take a second look? Thankfully Damon never had been allowed back inside before he'd flown down because of his father.

"Well who did they belong to?" I asked my voice laced with impatience. It had been nearly a week since I'd called Jeremy in the middle of the night with my idea. Damon had glared at me from underneath one of my pillows before throwing the phone across the room when I'd finally hung up.

"The balcony belonged to Isobel Saltzman. We know they occurred that day or the evening before," Jeremy explained. "The weathering was a bit...damaging."

"I can account for Isobel and I'm really not sure she was capable of it," I said. "She's damaged but she's not that damaged. I think she would have done anything to protect

Katherine but killing her wouldn't solve anything. What about the bed post?"

"Stefan Salvatore but then you've accounted for the affair?"

"I have. Stefan is certainly capable but I think he would have preferred a more violent killing if he has it in him," I explained. "He's got a hidden dark streak but he was in love with her so...possibly not."

"Love is one of the oldest motivators," Jeremy fired back. "The scotch wasn't in the system. We can rule out Isobel, Elijah, Klaus, Stefan, Tyler, and Lexi. The others don't have records so...no comparison. If you can, you may want to try and get some samples."

"Yes on top of everything else, I'll go digging through the trash for a few stray prints," I commented. Like I had any time for that nonsense.

"Elena, I don't know what the hell you've stumbled into down there but you need to know something," Jeremy said slowly. "Look I get your sudden infatuation with Damon but you need to know..."

"Know what?"

"There are no prints in that apartment. It's not physically possible unless he didn't live there or..."Jeremy trailed off.

"Cleaning crew? Nah Jeremy. They would have gotten the other prints," I replied. "Plus Damon's cocky. He wouldn't spend the time or money dealing with that sort of thing."

"You are letting your feelings interfere with this Elena," Jeremy admonished. "He's a pretty face and not much else. Don't let him ruin your career."

"Jeremy thanks for the information but don't think you can interfere with my personal life," I bit out. "Damon is my business and he's a bit more than a pretty face."

"He also doesn't seem to exist, Elena. There are almost no records of him anywhere. I can prove he was born and he graduated from Mystic Falls High but other than that, he's a mystery."

"Well maybe but he's a mystery I plan on solving."

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"Will you play black or white Miss Gilbert," Jenna Sommers asked as she sat two tea cups beside the ornate chess set. The pieces were already set and she was waiting for me to pick my seat.

"I'll take black, if you don't mind, "I replied. Chess wasn't exactly my game but I thought it might loosen her tongue a bit if I played. She nodded stiffly and slid into her seat, adding one sugar and a lemon wedge to her cup.

"That will be fine," she replied. "I usually play white." She sipped her tea softly as she moved her knight forward. "Your play Miss Gilbert."

"Elena please," I responded as I slid a pawn forward. She smiled at the amateurish move before sliding a pawn forward to counter.

"So...why have you decided to investigate me?" she asked as I made another move. The tea was horrible but whatever. I choked a little down to be polite.

"Well I realized something," I said as she captured my pawn.

"What is that?" she said with a small victorious smile creeping across her face.

"Everyone is throwing everyone else to the dogs. Every name is mentioned by someone else. Excuses and alibis are thrown about but I realized something earlier."

"Ah?" she asked as I slid a bishop forward. I paused in my statement to assess the board. She was very good but...well I'd played better.

"Check," I said as I slid my queen into place. "No one has said your name. You are the only one no one talks about."

"Well perhaps it's because I'm innocent," she replied. She moved her rook to capture my bishop and I took another sip of shit tea. "After all what motive could I have?"

"Well it's no secret you wanted to sell the house. Stefan would have sold because of his gambling debts," I said as I captured one of her knights. I glanced up and watched her reign in her anger. She was a very sore loser and it was interesting to see her trying to conceal that little villainous streak.

"You are very good at this," she said as she attempted to defend her king from a few expert moves. I played it cool for a few moves as I considered how to phrase the question forming.

"Did you personally know Katherine Pierce?" I asked as I took another sip of shit tea.

"Why would I know Katherine Pierce? You don't think I killed her do you?" She asked. "It's absurd. I had nothing to gain from that woman's death."

"Maybe not, but I've heard of murders happening for little gain," I replied. "Maybe she knew something about you or you wanted something from her. It's not unheard of in my profession."

She didn't reply as she moved a piece into place. Her methods had changed as she desperately tried to defend her remaining pieces. She was surprised by my offensive moves and clearly had expected me to play meekly.

"I didn't kill her Miss Gilbert and if you think I killed Mr. Salvatore then you are quite mistaken," she said finally. "If you'll ask Grayson for a copy of the will, you'll find I was a witness. I knew of the changes and Damon will never sell."

"And why is that?"

"Damon loves that old house. He may choose to live elsewhere but he'll keep the house to pass on to his children," she replied. "Now can we finish the game?"

"Of course," I replied. "Checkmate."

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Jenna had been cold after I'd beaten her and made no bones about making me feel unwelcome. Hopefully I wouldn't have to speak to her again since she seemed to be completely uncooperative. At three o'clock on the dot she suddenly took her hair down and shook it out in a mess of wavy hair. She unbuttoned her sweater and I immediately got a vision of one of those bar-hopping hussies I was used to in New York.

Sure enough I was hustled out the door within ten minutes with no explanation and no concluding remarks. I headed back to my car and sat there, turning over the conversation in my head. She had given very little away and I knew from my experiences she was a hard-selling real estate agent.

As I pulled away I glanced back. I'm not sure why I did but maybe it was curiosity over her sudden change in demeanor. As I glanced back I noticed a familiar car turn the corner. Damon's car pulled up to the curb and I found myself frowning at the implications. Two seconds later I gaped at mirrored image.

It was Alaric Saltzman! What the hell was he doing there? I saw him look around for a few minutes before pulling out a bottle of wine. Well, well, well what was he doing with Jenna Sommers?

He looked around nervously before heading towards her front door. He reached out and rang the doorbell and then waited. A few moments later, Jenna opened the door wearing a low-cut shirt and a pair of tight blue jeans. Ric looked nervous as she slid one hand down his chest before tugging on his belt.

I watched as they slipped inside, closing the door behind them. It seemed awfully uncharacteristic of Ric. Weren't he and Isobel reconnecting after her recent attack? Was he having an affair or was there something else going on? It gave me some things to think about as I pulled away from the curb.

I was so distracted I failed to notice the car tailing me.

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By the time I realized I was being followed, I discovered I was being sandwiched. I turned down a connecting road to meet up with Caroline for an early dinner when I noticed the dark sedan behind me. I wasn't worried since I knew the road branched towards Main Street and then roads began intersecting. It wouldn't be hard to lose them.

When I turned the corner I realized this was a set-up. An SUV blocked the road and there was no room to turn around. As I slowed I reached for the glove compartment for my spare pistol. It wasn't my favorite but it would do in an emergency. As I slid to a stop, my fingers grazed the metal of the gun. Before I could grasp it, I was ripped from the car and my arms were pulled behind my back.

"Did you like my message?" A voice breathed against my ear. "I would have rather sent it through you but my brother liked a more subtle approach."

"You call that subtle Klaus?" I hissed as he pushed me towards the woods. I fought but his grip was strong. Two thugs slid out of the SUV and grasped me tightly when I managed to get one good kick. Klaus grimaced but smirked when he realized I had missed what I was aiming for when I took aim. The men stopped at his hand motion and we progressed deeper into the woods. Suddenly we broke through a line of trees and I found myself looking at something odd.

Elijah was sitting at a table set for two in the middle of the woods. There was fine china on the table and music being played from a man with a violin. The men moved me forward, sitting me down in the ornate chair, holding my shoulders so I didn't move.

"Good Afternoon Miss Gilbert," Elijah said softly as he poured a glass of wine. "I didn't think you'd respond to my dinner invitation and unfortunately I had to ask Klaus to bring you here."

"I'd have preferred an invitation," I replied.

"Yes well...Klaus is on a tight leash right now as punishment," he said glaring at his brother. "He defied my instructions when he spent some quality time with Mrs. Saltzman. He'll be paying that one off for a while yet."

"May I have full range of my arms yet or shall I get comfortable?" I bit out. I'd spent a bit of time in handcuffs once but I've found bondage isn't my thing. It was probably a control issue which a shrink would love to delve into. Frankly I didn't care why only that I didn't enjoy it.

"That's enough Kol...Finn," Elijah said with a wave of his hand. Like good little dogs they immediately stepped back. I cracked my knuckles thoughtfully as I took a moment to assess the situation. I could maybe distract Elijah long enough to run but I'd never make it to the line of trees before the goons were on me. They'd tugged my concealed knife and I couldn't say I was pleased with its absence.

"Is that better Elena? May I call you Elena?" he asked as he lifted his wine glass in a mock toast.

"Would it matter if I said no?" I asked in a clearly aggravated tone. Elijah smiled broadly and motioned for Finn, or was it Kol to begin serving the meal.

"Of course it matters Miss Gilbert," he replied teasingly. "In fact, I think we've taken the wrong approach with you. Klaus has been severely reprimanded for his ridiculous behavior at the nail salon. I am sorry about that."

"Save your apologies Elijah," I replied. "I really don't want anything to do with either of you. You don't get in my way and I'll look the other way when it comes to your enterprise. I'm only here to solve Giuseppe's murder."

"And Katherine's," Elijah finished. "Yes well it has come to my attention we might possibly have similar goals."

"I can't imagine us having similar anything," I replied as I took a grudging sip of the wine. It tasted like liquid gold and I mentally swore at him. How dare this asshole serve a perfect meal when he was holding me hostage!

"Well it has come to my attention Klaus is suspected for murdering Mrs. Pierce," he began. "That is completely false but the police are determined to hound him tirelessly and it seems it is impacting our...business."

"Not really my problem," I stated. "In fact it would be beneficial for him to just cooperate with the police."

"Not in our business," Elijah responded. "It is imperative you solve that murder and lay it to rest so we can continue with our acquisitions."

"What's in it for me to help you?" I finally asked. It seemed as though I should at least play along with his insane idea. It would be the best way for me to get out of this mess without

losing some of my blood or worse, a limb.

"Well what if I promised no harm would come to your lover?" Elijah asked. "In fact let me promise no harm shall come to either of you."

"And if I say no?"

"Well then, it would be a shame if Stefan had to bury another family member," Elijah replied darkly. "After all they must be running out of room in the family plots."

"So it's a threat?" I asked.

"You may look at it that way, Miss Gilbert," he replied. "I truly detest violence but it seems to be the most effective method. Isobel escaped my notice but I promise you, it will not happen again."

"Your word means very little Elijah."

"Ah yes well you should know your sister's meant much less," he replied.

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Moments after his cryptic words I found myself escorted back to my car. My knife lay on the passenger seat and my keys dangled from the ignition. Kol and Finn vanished into the tree line as if they had never been there. Their cars were conspicuously gone and I wondered how many others had been in the woods, watching for their boss' motion.

I disliked the position I had been thrust into by the Trudeaus. It seemed they knew more of what went on in Mystic Falls but this particular aspect eluded them. Surely they had investigated the murder reports. Clearly Klaus would stand out in the reports being associated with organized crime and the drug trade. He was a gold mine for an arresting officer and they would try everything to get it to stick.

I pulled away from the side of the road quickly and headed for the Boarding House. I'd call Caroline later and tell her something had come up. It seemed oddly important for me to head back to home base and process this newly discovered partnership. Damon wouldn't be pleased in the slightest but then he hardly needed to know.

His car was missing from the garage when I pulled inside. Damon had given me the code and permission to park inside once the other guests had moved to their own homes or hotels. The only other people staying at the Manor were Lexi, Stefan, and Richard.

Richard was a closed book to me. He barely said two words to me but the note from Giuseppe weighed heavily in my mind. Was it logical he had dealings which led to Giuseppe's death? If so did it have anything to do with Katherine's death? What could he gain? His inheritance had been small in comparison to others.

As I slid my car between Damon's empty space and Lexi's Porsche I noticed another car parked towards the end of the row. It was a sensible car and it had darkly tinted windows. I walked over and snapped a picture of the plates, thinking it could lead somewhere. I couldn't imagine where but then the tiniest thing could be a break in the nothingness.

I meandered for the house and smiled at the changing leaves. It was subtle since it was still early but there was nothing like the changing colors, signaling colder weather. It was one thing I loved about New York State. I would usually take some sort of vacation towards the end of October, hole myself up in some lakeside cabin and bask in the colors. It was the sentimental aspect of my life.

The front door slammed loudly behind me and I whirled to see what had caused it. Richard stormed out, down the front steps and breezed past me as if he hadn't seen me. He mumbled something under his breath before entering the garage. Seconds later and the strange car backed out of the garage and blew down the driveway.

Where was he going? I found myself jogging back to my car, racing after him.

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All right so it didn't take me as long as I expected. So who do you think did it? Was it the same person for both murders? What about the third murder?

Next up TBL, TBW, STC, then CMI. By the way have you checked out "Small Time Charm" yet? It's a new story by me featuring DE! By the way I'm in the market for banners for TBW, TBL, and STC. I can attempt to pay you in one-shots but they take me forever. Well my only rule if you decide to help me out is no children. I don't like using photographs of children in banners since they haven't appeared in TVD nor are they associated. Please let me know if you are interested.

Please leave me some feedback. Reviews brighten my day and I promise to respond at some point. I just figure you want the chapter rather than the replies.


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